


All Our Friends Want Us to Fall in Love

by CaliBDiamond



Series: Catch a Falling Star [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 124,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliBDiamond/pseuds/CaliBDiamond
Summary: It's obvious thatsomethingis happening between Iza Tacor and Clone Trooper Catcher, but they'll do their best to keep it hidden for as long as possible.
Relationships: Original Clone Trooper Character(s)/Original Jedi Character(s)
Series: Catch a Falling Star [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638151
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. That Girl is a Problem

Iza Tacor wasn’t supposed to be down here. The Clone barracks were strictly forbidden for her to access without her Master in tow, but she’d learned where the weak spots were in the security system and knew exactly when the right time to slip into the building was. She’d been doing this for a few months now, after all. Unfortunately, she hadn’t counted on _someone_ letting it slip that she’d been paying unwarranted visits and that the rotation had been changed without her knowledge.

She’d been in the middle of tapping in the passcode she had memorized when a big hand clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around, bringing her face to face with a very weary looking Clone in Captain’s armor. For a moment, she thought for sure he was going to snap at her and tell her to kick gravel, especially judging by the way he was looking at her so disappointedly. Heaving a sigh, the blond shook his head at her instead and raised an eyebrow.

“Does General Windu know where you are?” Rex asked, looking as though he was getting tired of asking this question. In truth—he was. He had a damn army to keep in line and he couldn’t have his men distracted by a stray Padawan who refused to stop coming down here. He didn’t care what her reasons were for her _visits_ ; the point was that there should _be_ no reason. Weren’t these Jedi supposed to be extremely conservative? This little one seemed well off enough, but these night time visits were getting _strange_.

“Captain, _sir_ ,” wrapping the end of the long, thin braid she wore behind her ear around her fingers, Iza tugged at it nervously and bit down on her bottom lip. “I just… was gonna go for a walk.”

“Into my barracks?” he had to fight the amused expression that wanted to creep into his features.

“I thought that maybe…” tugging on her braid again, she shrugged, “I could ask for an escort?”

“You know the front door is around that way, right?” _Oh_ , this was cute. Watching her try to explain herself out of this when anyone with half a brain knew who she was here to see was almost damn adorable. “Padawan Tacor, if you need an escort, maybe one of the Temple guards—”

“Please?” _Curse the Maker_. She just had to pout, didn’t she? “ _Please_ , Captain Rex?”

Rex was a strong man. He’d seen some terrible shit out on the battlefield and learned to steel himself against even the worst of abuse. So the fact that he knew he was about to crumble because a Padawan was practically begging him to grant her an _escort_ for her _walk_ really pissed him off. Letting out a low growl of defeat, he shook his head at her and gestured for her to move out of his way so he could get to the door panel behind her. Careful to keep her from seeing the new passcode, he tapped it in and jerked his head when the door slid open.

“Don’t go telling General Windu about this, understand? You get caught, it’s on you.” He wagged his finger at her and scowled, unable to stop himself from smirking when her face lit up and she nodded before running inside. Damn kid. She reminded him too much of General Skywalker. Funny how she seemed to be further behind him in her training when he was _sure_ she was older. Then again, Windu was a hardass, and he thought he’d heard chatter about this one completing her _Trials_ soon—whatever the hell that meant. He supposed it meant she’d be boosted through the ranks and she’d lose that rattail of a braid like Skywalker had.

 _Maker_ , he hoped that didn’t mean she’d be given charge of a battalion. He didn’t think the girl had the stuff to lead hundreds of his men into battle.

Letting out a sigh at the thought, the tired Captain shut the door again and turned to lean against the side of the wall. If anyone else thought they were going to sneak in here, they would have a very hard time trying to do so.

~*~*~*~

Iza kept her hands tucked behind her back as she walked slowly, trying to look as casual as possible. She was acutely aware of the looks she got while weaving in and out between the beds, occasionally standing on her toes to seek out the _one_ Clone she was looking for. Surprisingly, it was pretty easy for her to tell most of them apart. Aside from the way they liked to decorate their armor, a great deal of them separated themselves from the pack by flashing their individuality in other ways. Tattoos, the odd piercing on occasion, and various hair colors set some of the men apart from the others. Scars helped sometimes, too. The Clone she was looking for had a rather nasty one on his chin leftover from flying shrapnel.

“You look lost,” the deep, accented tone of one of the Clones— _not hers_ —sounded in her ear as he came up alongside her. “Looking for your Master?”

“No,” glancing up to study the man beside her, she almost sighed. She didn’t recognize this one and he only wore a number on his chestplate. It always made her a little sad when they did that. “Do you know where I can find Catcher?”

“Catcher?” he looked confused. Must be one of the newer recruits.

“Uh—CT-8687?” Iza hated using the numbers. It was so impersonal and made her feel gross.

An odd look crossed the features of the Clone in front of her as he studied her and then let a grin spread across his lips.

“So _you’re_ Little Bit, eh?”

She _really_ hoped her face wasn’t turning red. She felt hot from the collar up and did her best to keep her features as neutral as possible, even when the Clone gave her a jesting jab with his elbow.

“Hey, no one is going to _say anything_ ,” he chuckled, giving a wink. “Not to anyone who matters, anyway.”

“Have you seen CT-8687 or not?” Iza suddenly felt very _exposed_ and she didn’t like it. More pairs of eyes were watching her and she could swear she heard them all whispering amongst each other.

“He’s over there in the back,” still grinning at her as he looked her over again, “Be gentle with him, eh? We need him walking in the morning.”

The flush on Iza’s face spread to her neck and ears as she walked briskly away from the snickering Clone and she swept the ends of her long hair over her shoulder to give them a hard tug. _Force_ , these men could be crass. She was so focused on getting away from him that she’d gone right ahead and walked past where she needed to go.

“Hey— _Little Bit!_ ”

She turned a little too quick—evident only by the fact that the end of her Padawan braid had whipped her right in the face—when she was called, green eyes seeking out the Clone she’d been searching for. A pleasant sort of warmth swelled in her chest when she saw him waving from where he sat with a few of his brothers, bursting into a million little butterflies that swarmed her stomach and made her feel _giddy_. Her expression must’ve changed because suddenly, Catcher was being elbowed and pushed by the other Clones around him, all chuckling like they knew a secret. He brushed them off and got to his feet, shooting a dirty look in their direction as he crossed the floor to meet her.

“What are you doing in here?” his tone was stern, but he smiled at Iza as he looked down at her with one brow raised. “I thought General Windu banished you from coming here?”

“He _might have_ ,” twisting the end of her braid around her fingers she hoped she didn’t look as dreamy-eyed as she felt. “Will you come take a walk with me? I need an escort.”

“An escort. _You?_ ” Catcher looked extremely amused by this. “What did you do to Captain Rex to get him to let you in?”

“I didn’t do _anything_ ,” giving him the same innocent look she’d given to the Clone Captain, Iza wasn’t surprised at all when Catcher tutted at her and shook his head.

“I’m sure you didn’t, Little Bit,” hooking his thumbs into the utility belt on his waist, he heaved a sigh and turned a hand up. “I guess I can take a walk with you. Do you mind giving me a minute to put that bucket gear back on? They won’t appreciate it if I walk around the compound without it on.”

 _They_ might not, but Iza’s eyes had been quite happy to look at him in just the undersuit and the leg armor. Judging by the way he smirked when he caught her _staring_ , she had a feeling he could tell. The brunette only gave a wave of her hand as permission—not that he needed it—and decided to seat herself as far away from his brothers as possible. She’d become very aware of more stares and whispers and she was sure that if she focused hard enough, she’d be able to hear what they were saying about her. She thought she could hear Catcher muttering at them to _shut their traps_ but she ignored it, continuing to twirl her braid around and stare blankly off while she waited.

“All right you,” the gentle nudge of a hand against her shoulder had her looking up and she was almost _sad_ to see him in everything but the helmet. “Let’s walk.”

~*~*~*~

“Stop doing that,” reaching out, Catcher pulled Iza’s hand away from her hair to stop her from tugging at it. “You’re going to give yourself another headache.”

Looking over at him sheepishly, she gave a brief smile and dropped her gaze as she muttered an apology, hesitating a little before she attempted to hook her fingers around his. At first, Catcher seemed to not notice what she was doing and just continued walking beside her. And then he moved a step closer and let their fingers link together, giving a gentle squeeze.

“You’ve got choobies, kid,” he said with a snicker, giving her a sidelong look. “Coming into the barracks like that when you know your Master won’t be pleased.”

“It isn’t fair,” she wished he wasn’t wearing the undersuit. She’d like to hold his hand properly for once. “I _understand_ he means well, but it does no good for me to be stuck up in the Temple all the time.”

“Captain Rex is losing his patience as well, Little Bit,” playing with her fingers, he let go when he heard the sound of boots approaching and stepped to the side to put a more appropriate amount of space between them. When the two Troopers had passed, Catcher turned to say something and found that Iza had stopped walking a few paces back. Sighing heavily to himself, the Clone walked back over and nudged her. “Hey, I thought we were taking a walk?”

“Yeah,” something about the sadness in her tone caused a slight ache in his chest. “Sorry,”

Sharp eyes followed as Iza began walking again, taking note of her slumped posture and the way she refused to look up from the toes of her boots. The hands she had tucked behind her back had taken hold of the ends of her hair again and he frowned when he noticed she was straight up _pulling_ now. Looking around to see how many others were out on the compound, he slipped his arm around her waist and hurried her off towards one of the darker, less trafficked corners. When he was sure they were tucked safely out of sight, Catcher gently detangled Iza’s fingers from her hair and cupped her head in his hands, brushing the pad of a thumb against her cheek.

“Sweetheart,” he spoke softly, crouching down a bit to level their gazes. “I know it’s tough, but there isn’t much we can do.”

“Isn’t there?” _Maker_ , he wished she wouldn’t pout like that. “Couldn’t we just… _leave?_ ”

They’d had this conversation before. In fact, they’d had this conversation about _five times_ in the last few weeks when Iza’s crush on him had become more and more obvious. It pained him to have to keep rejecting her advances for the sake of saving face in front of his superiors, so he’d started letting her have _little_ things. The occasional squeeze of a shoulder when she came to him upset over how a lesson had turned out, these walks that often ended with them linking their fingers together until they came across another person. And the scalp massages; he should never have started giving her those to begin with.

He’d just felt so _terrible_ when he’d found her sobbing her sweet little heart out because her head was pounding so much she couldn’t concentrate. Some sort of focus training her Master had put her through was triggering awful migraines and he hadn’t known what to do for her, so he’d done the stupid thing and put his hands in her hair and started carefully rubbing at the different pressure points on her head to try and find some way to help. That had probably been the biggest damn mistake he could’ve made for both of them. Now she was seeking him out whenever a lesson had thrown her into one of these migraines, and he’d become a damn sucker for the way she fell apart in his hands.

“Little Bit,” he wanted to give her the answer she craved, but he couldn’t. They both knew where this was going. Iza didn’t seem to want to stick around to hear it this time because she’d batted his hands away from her face and turned away from him, making a sad sound that made him feel like someone had punched him in the gut. Reaching to grab her by the back of her robes before she could get too far, he hauled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, hoping she’d forgive him for the bulkiness of the armor. “Iza, please,”

“I don’t _want_ to be a Jedi anymore!” pressing her face against the hard surface of his armored forearm, Iza tried to muffle the sound of the little sobs that followed. “I want to be _free_ , Catcher. I want _us_ to be _free_.”

 _Maker_ , he didn’t know how to tell her that he didn’t have a lot of options. He was either a soldier, or he was worm fodder. There was no in-between for the Clones. Sure, he could abandon his post and run off with her— _man_ , that was tempting, too—but he’d be marked as a deserter and there’d be a target on his back for the rest of the duration of this war. If they were ever caught, he’d be court martialed and likely executed. Stars knew what they might do to _her_ for turning away from the Order she’d been working so hard to become a part of.

“I would love for us to be free, Little Bit,” he whispered, wishing he could think of a way to make her stop crying. “But we can’t give up our duties.”

The frustrated slap that landed on his arm was surprisingly strong, but Catcher still reached out to lace their fingers together so she wouldn’t do that again.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he set his chin on her shoulder, grunting when she turned her head away from him and he got a faceful of her hair. “Little Bit, will you listen to me for a minute?”

She didn’t say anything, but she relaxed enough to suggest that she was at least listening to him. Taking a minute to check and make sure there were no approaching footsteps, Catcher let out a quiet breath and rested his head against hers, sitting down on the concrete and pulling her down to sit between his legs.

“I know it hurts, sweetheart,” _boy_ , did he know. “And I’m sorry that I can’t say the things you want me to say. I’m also sorry that I can’t let you give up on everything you’ve worked so hard for just because of me. Iza,” bringing a hand up, he gently nudged her chin with his knuckles so she’d look at him, surprised by the hard glare he was getting. “You shouldn’t waste your heart on me. I may not be here tomorrow.”

“It’s _my_ heart,” turning her head away from him again, Iza pulled against his hold on her and Catcher had no choice but to let her go. “I’ll waste it on whoever I want,”

He wanted to reach out and take her hand again, but the brunette was too quick for him. Already she’d started walking away, using the sleeve of her robe to dry her eyes. Catcher felt like a damn fool just watching her go, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d been warned not to let that girl get too attached—both by Captain Rex _and_ General Windu—but nobody had told _him_ not to get attached. Nobody had told _him_ that he shouldn’t develop feelings for that sweet, mischievous, intelligent girl. She was his _Little Bit_ of everything he could want rolled into one—and he’d never get to tell her any of the things he wanted to. She’d been right when she said it wasn’t fair, but what could they do?

Dragging his fingers through his hair, the Clone pushed himself to his feet and tried to shake himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t go back to the barracks looking like he’d just gotten into a fight with his girlfriend. He didn’t even _have_ a damn girlfriend, although his brothers liked to taunt him and say otherwise. He hadn’t gotten very far when he spotted Iza leaning up against the rail that overlooked Coruscant, her back to him and her little braid wrapped around her fingers. She was tugging at it so hard she was going to pull the damn thing out and he had a sick feeling that was the goal. She’d told him once that disgraced Padawans had their braids torn out by their Masters before they were tossed out of the Temple. If she ripped that out, she’d have to leave.

“Iza!” Running up behind her, he took hold of her robes to try and distract her from what she was doing, but she just kept _pulling_. After a few moments of dealing with her smacking at his hands and giving invisible pushes with those weird Force abilities of hers, Catcher finally managed to detangle her fingers from the braid and wrap his hands around her wrists, anchoring them forcefully to the small of her back, “ _Stop!_ ”

Both of them were breathing heavily as they stared one another down and Catcher held tight to her when she tried jerking out of his grasp, leaning down to press his forehead to hers in a last ditch attempt to get her to listen.

“ _Please_ ,” he shouldn’t have been this close and he knew it, but _damn_ —he couldn’t just let her do that. Shutting his eyes a little, he shook his head as much as he could and dared to let the bridge of his nose brush against hers. “Don’t do that, Little Bit.”

He could feel her squirming in his hold, but it was hard to tell whether she was trying to get _away_ or get _closer_. Judging by how she kept tilting her head, it was the latter. Her breathing became heavier, more frustrated, and she whined at him, giving a kick to the toe of his boot that almost made him chuckle. Stubborn little thing, wasn’t she?

“ _Catcher,_ ” she was straining against the hold he had on her arms, pushing her chest up into his and giving tiny stomps of her feet when he wouldn’t budge. “ ** _Catcher_** _!_ ”

“I can’t,” he whispered, hating how much it was torturing them both to not just give in and let her have what she wanted. Her lips had already come dangerously close enough to his for him to taste her breath. Any closer and they’d have a big problem. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,”

“Someone’s coming,” she sounded irritated and he supposed he couldn’t blame her for that.

He let go of her like he’d been shot at for touching her, taking a few steps back and trying to look as casual as possible. Pretending to be interested in something going on in the traffic lines overhead, Catcher grunted when Iza gave him a hard push.

“What’s that for?” Turning to look back at her, he frowned at the way she stared at him with that hurt expression on her face. “ _Iza_ ,”

“You’re horrible,” her jaw wobbled as she glared at him, balling her hands into fists at her sides. “ _You’re so **mean**!_”

He didn’t know what to say to her. She _had_ to know that he wasn’t trying to upset her. Aside from the fact that they were _very much_ out in the open, he couldn’t continue to entertain her feelings for him for about a hundred different reasons. All of them came down to the fact that they just _couldn’t_ do this. They weren’t allowed to. She was committing some kind of sacrilege against her Code as it was by getting this close to him, and he was dangerously close to being reprimanded for _funny behavior_ around a Jedi Master’s Padawan. He didn’t _want_ to be mean or refuse; he just didn’t have a damn choice.

“Iza, come on—” there was a weird pressure in his chest when he tried to take a step forward and he realized she must’ve done something to keep him from getting any closer to her. “Little Bit—”

“I’m sorry I inconvenienced you, _Trooper_ ,” she sniffed, scrubbing her face with the sleeve of her robe as she backed away from him. _Wait a minute_ —that wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her to leave, especially not like that. And he certainly didn’t want her calling him _Trooper_ again. “You don’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore.”

His heart dropped into his stomach when she turned and made a mad dash for the stairs leading off of the compound and he was left staring after her. He could hear someone over his shoulder calling to him, asking him something about the _little Jedi girl_ , but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. He was torn between just letting her go and running after her and after a minute of just cussing at himself, he bolted.

Iza hadn’t gotten terribly far. She was fast for such a little thing, but Catcher had rightfully earned his nickname on account of the fact that he could _catch up_ to someone riding a speeder. A twenty-something Jedi Padawan was easy prey for him. He tried to be as careful as possible when he slung his arms around her waist, dragging her to a halt and lifting her off her feet.

“Hey,” finding a suitable place to sit, Catcher settled her on his lap and began brushing all of the hair away from Iza’s red, tear streaked face. “Little Bit, look at me,”

“No,” she shook her head and tried to bury her face in her hands, only to have him gently take hold of her chin and tilt her head up. Even then, she shut her eyes tight and refused.

“Why not?” He didn’t want to force her if she truly didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want her to run off thinking the awful things floating in her head were true.

“You told me not to **waste** my heart on you,” finally opening her eyes, Iza gave him a pained look and lightly thumped her hand against his armored shoulder. “Why would you say that? Why would you think it would be a waste?”

His features softened a little and the hand holding her chin moved to cradle the back of her head instead, encouraging her to tuck it into the crook of his neck as he sighed heavily.

“Little Bit,” he hated this. Catcher hated to think of himself as a number as much as Iza did, but it was the sad fact of the war. That was _all_ he was; a number, a body, a tool to be utilized. He had not been _created_ for what her heart desired of him. It didn’t mean he was incapable of it. Of course he was fucking capable of it. He would’ve just let her run off into the night if he wasn’t. It just wasn’t his _purpose_. “I know you understand what I mean when I say that.”

“But I _don’t!_ ” she tugged at the bit of undersuit peeking out from beneath the armor and he was momentarily grateful she hadn’t tried hitting him again. “You make me…” pausing, the brunette pressed her lips together tight and ducked her chin, silently thankful that it was dark enough to hide the flush beginning to bloom across her cheeks. “You give me _butterflies_ , Catch. How is it a waste if that happens?”

_Oh, Maker._

The press of his lips was warm against her forehead and it made her suck in a surprised breath. With a great amount of hesitation, Catcher lightly peppered more tiny kisses over her face and paused as he got to her mouth.

“Catch?” the fingers that had been playing with the neck of his undersuit traced along his jaw and she gave him such a damn innocent look that it made something _burn_ in his chest. She was leaning in already, lightly brushing her nose against his. He could feel that her breathing had gotten a little heavier in the anticipation, but hell if he wasn’t struggling with himself over whether this was a good idea or not.

_Screw it._

He’d leaned in a little closer, just barely beginning to press his lips to hers, when the sound of someone calling for Iza echoed around them.

“Padawan Tacor?!” It sounded like Master Windu.

“ _Kriff the stars!_ ” Pulling away from Catcher as quickly as she could, she looked around to make sure that her Master wasn’t anywhere he could actually see them. “We have to go— _now_.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Getting up from his seat, the Clone followed her back up the stairs to the compound where they found Master Windu standing next to Captain Rex. The Clone Captain looked a little suspicious of the two, but nowhere near as suspicious as the Jedi beside him. Shifting his dark gaze between Iza and Catcher, he waved an impatient hand at his Padawan and let out a heavy sigh.

“This is the last time you’ll be allowed down here, is that clear?” He told her as she obeyed and came over.

Try as she might to keep a neutral expression, Iza knew her face had betrayed her when Windu gave her a disappointed look and motioned for her to start walking back to the Temple.

“Sir,” Catcher wasn’t sure if he ought to speak, but he could see how close Iza was to crying and he felt she’d done enough of that for one night. “If I may speak?”

“If you must, Trooper,”

“We were only taking a walk, sir,” gesturing back towards the stairs where they’d come from, Catcher let out a quiet laugh and then waved at Iza. “I admit she got away from me. But we were only down there for a minute.”

“I saw something,” glad that her voice wasn’t shaking, Iza did her best to keep her eyes level with Master Windu’s. Lying to him was hard work, but it was doable. “I wanted to make sure it wasn’t an enemy droid.”

“And what was it?” Folding his arms over his chest, Windu narrowed his eyes.

“Bloodrat.” Pointing at Catcher, she made a face. “He got mad at me for running off, too. Like I don’t know how to handle myself.”

Exchanging a look with Captain Rex, Windu seemed to mull this over for a few tense minutes before waving for Iza to start walking. The crestfallen look on her face broke Catcher’s heart, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had to let her go. He knew he was facing a serious scolding from the Captain as well and he could barely bring himself to look at the other man.

“Don’t look so damn defeated,” Rex said quietly, snorting. “You know she’ll be back.”

“And you’ll let her see me?”

“Like I’ll have a choice?” shooting the other Clone a look, Rex almost rolled his eyes. “Have you ever tried telling her _no_? Just keep your shit to yourselves, got it? If General Windu gets even a _whiff_ that something might be off about the two of you, I don’t think you’ll see that girl ever again.”

“Got it,” nodding, Catcher blew out a heavy breath and ran his fingers through his hair before moving to head inside. He needed to lie down for a while and think all of this over.


	2. Tonight We Are Victorious

Iza hadn’t seen him in almost a week thanks in part to the fact that he’d been hauled into the field with Master Skywalker on top of Master Windu sticking to his word about not allowing her down at the barracks. He’d made a _deal_ with her; if she continued to put all of her focus towards her Trials, then she could spend a few minutes with her friend a day. So she’d thrown herself into her lessons, staying up much later than necessary to try and sharpen the skills she was required to show to the Council in order to earn her Knighthood. It had left her exhausted and sent her to the Medcenter a few times for her migraines, but at least she’d earned her time alone with Catcher this time.

At first, she’d been worried that his words to her about _not being here tomorrow_ had come true when she’d gone to the platform to meet the Jedi and Troopers returning from assignment and he didn’t appear to be in any of the gunships. She knew what his armor looked like; she’d watched him decorate his helmet one afternoon when she was visiting the barracks with Master Windu, who’d been too busy checking in on his own squad to pay much attention to her. All Iza had to look for were the three little stars he’d let her doodle under the left side of the visor panel. Panic had begun to sink in when the gunships emptied and he hadn’t appeared, but she had no choice but to appear as poised as possible even as her hands twitched at her side with the need to start pulling at her hair. He’d be upset with her if she did it; he hated that habit of hers.

Choosing to roll the edge of her sleeve between her fingers instead, Iza wished that Master Windu would dismiss her so she could find somewhere private to cry. Her anxiety must’ve been radiating off of her because she’d caught the attention of Master Skywalker’s Padawan, Ahsoka. She hadn’t noticed the other girl watching her at first but her senses quickly caught on to the feeling that someone was staring and when their eyes met, she pressed her lips together and smiled tightly, giving a nod of acknowledgement. She liked Ahsoka. She was a sweet girl, very headstrong like her Master, and extremely adaptive to any situation she was put in. She was going to make an amazing Jedi. When Iza couldn’t maintain eye contact anymore without fear that she’d break and start crying, the brunette turned her gaze away and pretended to be watching the crew as they unloaded leftover supplies and weapons that needed repairs and reloading.

The hand that pressed between her shoulders startled her and she gasped audibly, turning to see that Ahsoka had approached without her noticing. _Man_ , she needed to get some sleep. Waiting up like this had dulled her senses horribly.

“Is everything all right?” Ahsoka spoke quietly so the other Jedi wouldn’t hear. “You feel distressed.”

Putting on the brightest, _fakest_ smile she usually saved for times like this, Iza nodded.

“I’m okay. Just a little tired, I think,” her eyes flicked to the gunships and back to Ahsoka and she thought she saw realization cross the younger girl’s features.

“Masters, may we be excused?” she called, looking over at the two Jedi.

Both Anakin and Master Windu turned at the same time to acknowledge the request. Master Windu studied Iza hard for a few moments while Master Skywalker gave an easy nod of his head in approval; a true testament to how vastly different their personalities were. The older man seemed to sigh before nodding and gesturing towards the Temple and Iza allowed Ahsoka to gently nudge her and escort her inside.

“Were you waiting for someone?” she whispered once they’d gotten into the hallway.

Iza wasn’t sure how to respond.

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka squeezed her arm and smiled, but it was bittersweet. “They’re my friends, too. I know it’s hard when they don’t come back.”

 _Friends_. If only that were the case.

“His name is Catcher,” she felt like she was committing some kind of sin just saying it aloud. “He was supposed to be with Master Skywalker’s squad.”

Ahsoka frowned like she was deep in thought for a moment or two and then shook her head.

“No—he was with Master Kenobi. Come on. I bet they haven’t even had time to finish docking yet.” giving Iza’s arm a tug, she started to pull her towards where the other man’s gunships had unloaded and stopped when someone cleared their throat behind them.

“Going somewhere, Snips?” Anakin stood with a brow raised and a faint smirk on his lips, looking between the two almost suspiciously.

“Master,” Ahsoka glanced at Iza and hesitated, “I’m just taking her to see her fr—”

“It’s okay Ahsoka,” patting the top of the younger girl’s hand, Iza found she couldn’t tear her gaze off of Anakin. She didn’t like the feeling of jealousy that burned in her gut whenever she had to come in contact with the Jedi and she would prefer to stay far away from him if at all possible. “I can manage from here. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” Giving a quick bow, then a nod in Anakin’s direction, she turned and started to walk briskly towards the off-loading platform Ahsoka had intended to lead her to. She didn’t need her fellow Padawan getting in trouble for her sake; she didn’t need Ahsoka _knowing_ anything, either. It was bad enough she’d caught on to how distressed she’d felt over not seeing Catcher come off the gunship. She was practically running by the time she started seeing Troopers filing into the hall, her eyes scanning faces and helmets while dread continued to fill her belly.

_Where was he?_

She slowed as her feet hit the platform but she never stopped her frantic searching, grasping the skirt of her tabard and twisting it until the material began to burn her palms. She was borderline hysterical now, though she’d done a decent job of keeping her torment from bleeding into her features. Standing off to the side so she wouldn’t draw too much attention to herself, Iza felt her shoulders start to shake when she realized that these gunships were empty now too. He wasn’t here. He’d probably been piled in with the rest of the bodies that would be sent off to be burned. His bed would be given to a new addition. She wouldn’t get to see his face again or hear him tease her or call her his _Little Bit_. She was going to be sick. Keeping her composure was pointless and she didn’t care if the Master Jedi standing on the platform saw her fall apart.

“Looking for someone?” the playful tone in her ear sent a shock through her system and let loose the flood of tears she’d been trying to hold back.

Turning, Iza stared up at Catcher—who was grinning like a fucking _idiot_ —and tried to discreetly pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. When he quirked a brow and gave her a look like he was waiting for an answer, she lunged at him and punched him smack in the middle of his chest.

“ _You stupid buckethead!_ ” _Stars_ , that armor was strong. She was pretty sure she’d just knocked a couple of knuckles out of place, but that didn’t stop her as she hit him again. “Where were you?!”

Catcher looked absolutely stunned that she’d been able to put that much power behind a punch. It’d actually knocked some of the wind out of him. Or maybe it was the devastated look on her face? He was silently thankful that the rest of the Jedi had gone inside and weren’t out here to witness any of this.

“Little Bit,” brown eyes were soft as he caught the next fist she threw at him, covering her already damaged knuckles with his free hand. “You passed me in the hall.”

She shook her head at him and gave him a weak swat with her palm, swallowing hard and sniffing back another hot torrent of tears.

“I _looked!_ I know your face, Catcher! I _know_ your helmet!” her voice was going hoarse. _Force_ , she was so pissed off at him.

He looked a little sheepish and gestured to the helmet he’d dropped when she’d hit him.

“I lost the other one. It fell out of the damn gunship during pickup. I had to borrow this one.”

“I thought you were _dead!_ ” Breaking out of his hold, Iza ran both hands into her hair and barely resisted the urge she had to pull at it. Instead, she crouched to bury her face in her knees and try to muffle the sounds of her sobbing. If someone was still lingering in the hallway, she didn’t want them to hear it. “I thought you were kriffing _dead_ , Catcher!”

She didn’t try to resist when Catcher crouched in front of her and pulled her into his arms, setting his chin atop her head. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. It was unfair for her to have to go through this kind of panic if she didn’t immediately see him upon returning from the battlefield. _Maker_ , she was shaking so hard, and he’d heard her fingers crack when she’d hit him. She was going to need to go to the Medcenter and have them looked at. Doing his best to soothe her, he rubbed a hand up and down her back and kept the other one wrapped lightly around the back of her neck. They really wouldn’t have a lot of time out here; he had to go down to the compound’s Medcenter and be assessed for his battle wounds too.

“Little Bit,” the fingers at the base of her neck slipped a little higher and rubbed gently at her scalp. He would’ve smirked at the soft sound she made in response had the moment not been so damn somber. “I’m okay. I’m here.”

“Don’t do this to me again,” picking her head up to look at him, she sniffed hard and rested her forehead against his scarred chin. “Don’t make me feel this way ever again.”

Tipping his head a fraction, Catcher kissed her forehead and let his lips linger. He wanted to give her his promise that he wouldn’t cause this kind of panic in her in the future, but he knew better. And he knew _she_ knew better. It was like asking for him to pull stars down with his bare hands; he just couldn’t do it. But _fuck_ —this was rough on him, too. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the real reason he’d lost his helmet. If she knew he’d had it knocked off by a sniper bolt, she’d probably head straight down to Commander Cody and _demand_ his honorable dismissal from the army. And then she’d go and get herself in trouble with her Master and the whole thing would be even more of a mess than it already was.

“We should get inside before someone comes looking for you, Little Bit,” he really didn’t want to get up. Uncomfortable as the position was, he would much rather sit here and hold onto her for a while than head down to the barracks and deal with the noise.

Surprisingly, Iza nodded and pulled back, but not before she brushed her lips over the scar on his chin. They hadn’t allowed themselves to do more than plant these tiny, affectionate kisses to each other’s faces—occasionally a hand if the situation called for it—because it seemed as though every time they started to, _someone_ always managed to catch them.

“Will you walk me to the Medcenter first?” Iza asked, following him with her eyes as he straightened before she did the same. “I think I broke something.”

~*~*~*~

“Tell me again how you managed to break your fingers?” Master Windu frowned hard as he stared at the bandages on Iza’s hand. The bacta injection she’d been given would mend the bones in a few hours, but this was going to put a damper on his plans for the evening.

“Running in the hall, sir,” keeping her head down so she’d appear as ashamed as possible, Iza hoped he wouldn’t ask anything about Catcher. “I tripped.”

“Tripped,” nope; he wasn’t buying it. “And you’re telling me you couldn’t catch yourself in time?”

“Sir, I was up very late last night. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been staying up a lot lately.” She could feel his eyes on her and hear his boots with each step he took as he paced in a circle around her. “Care to explain why?”

“I want to do well for the Trials, Master Windu.” Well, it was _true_. “You haven’t— _we_ haven’t been preparing for it together as much anymore. I don’t want to fall behind.”

“You think I’ve abandoned your training?”

“Sir,” if Iza tucked her chin any further into her chest, it’d get stuck this way. “I understand you’ve been busy. I mean no disrespect.”

“Tacor, look at me,”

Picking her head up, Iza did her best to keep a neutral face. Even when his dark eyes met hers and she felt the familiar twinge in her head of him trying to read her thoughts, she kept her shields up. She was _very_ open with Master Windu—as much as she could comfortably be—but there were things she wanted to keep private. She was sure he understood that. After all, he had barriers of his own around things he didn’t want her to see.

“I apologize if I’ve made you feel as though you’ve been left to teach yourself,” he said slowly, still searching her mind for _something_ , “And if my actions have somehow made you feel inadequate—”

“Why have you not sent me to my Trials?” He’d gotten far too close to some things that she didn’t want him to see; thoughts of Catcher that nobody had any business looking at. “I’ve been ready for over a _year_ , Master. Master Skywalker was knighted _prematurely_. It’s—”

She was silenced by a simple raise of Windu’s hand. Giving her a very pointed look, he folded his arms and sighed.

“ _That_ , my Padawan, is why. You’ve trained hard. There’s no doubt about that. But you still struggle with your emotions.” He almost looked sorry as he said it. “If you can’t learn to curb your jealousy and break unnecessary attachments—” another pointed look was thrown her way, “—then I’m afraid that you are _not_ ready, no matter how prepared you are in other areas.”

“I thought we needed all the Jedi we could get? This _is_ a war we’re fighting, isn’t it?” her bitter tone surprised even Iza and she immediately felt ashamed of herself for letting the words come out of her mouth at all. Dropping her head in shame, she bowed at the waist and squeezed her hands into fists against the urge to pull her hair. “ _I’m sorry_.”

Windu’s hand on her shoulder had her straightening to look at him, finding that he was looking somewhere over her head rather than _at_ her.

“I am not training a soldier, Padawan Tacor. You are a peacekeeper. Remember that.” He had to admit that these days, the lines seemed to have blurred together. “The war has called for some… _rash_ decisions to be made. However, I will not be making those same decisions with _my_ Padawan.”

Iza wanted to stomp her foot and ask _why not?_ but she knew better. Master Windu was one of the strictest Jedi Masters in the Order; it should’ve been no surprise to her that he wasn’t willing to do some of the same reckless things that others did.

“If you are that desperate to participate in your Trials, then I will go to the Grand Master and ask about setting up a time. But—” he turned and leveled his gaze with hers again and Iza didn’t dare to even blink. “You will spend the days between now and then getting your _emotions_ in check. I know you have it in you to steel yourself against the worst, Padawan Tacor. Prove to me that you’re ready for this and _let go_ of the things that hold you back.”

He was indirectly telling her that she had to stop seeing Catcher. No—he was being pretty damn direct about it, actually. He was just being kind enough not to embarrass her. There was a very big part of her that wanted to argue that Catcher wasn’t what was holding her back, that he’d been a big help during the times Master Windu was off-world doing his own duties instead of minding her like he was supposed to. He didn’t even know about the migraines because she hadn’t felt like she could tell him. He’d likely blame her hair-pulling habit and tell her to meditate, anyway. Taking in a deep breath, Iza pushed back the sudden rush of anger she felt so he—hopefully—wouldn’t detect it, and nodded.

“Yes sir,”

“Good,” his hand fell away from her shoulder and he gave a dismissive wave. “You may go.”

Bowing, Iza walked slowly out of the room and made her way down to her chamber. Once the door had slid shut behind her, she dropped onto her bed and buried her face in the pillow as deep as she could before letting out the hard scream of frustration she’d been holding in the entire time she’d been with her Master.

~*~*~*~

“Where’s your little friend?” one of Catcher’s brothers asked one afternoon as they sat in the canteen, poking at their food. “Haven’t seen her around for a while.”

Honestly, Catcher had been wondering the same thing. He hadn’t seen Iza since the day he’d gotten back from his deployment and no one seemed to want to give him answers to her whereabouts.

“Busy, I suppose,” shrugging like it was no big deal to him, the Clone broke off a piece of the bland tasting fruit bread he’d been given and tried not to frown. General Windu had been to the compound several times in the last few weeks, but _without_ Iza in tow. Normally, he only ever went into battle without his Padawan. She was supposed to go with him everywhere else. Had he been allowed to go up into that damn Temple, Catcher might’ve just marched his ass up there to ask someone where the hell they were keeping her.

“You gonna eat that or just tear it apart?”

“I’m not hungry,” pushing the tray away, Catcher got up and excused himself. Maybe he could get an answer out of Rex. He was pretty chummy with General Skywalker and his Padawan. There was a good chance he knew something. Finding the Captain at his usual post outside the barracks, he watched the way the man seemed to sigh at his approach.

“What do you want, Catcher?”

“Sir,” he wasn’t sure if he should even ask. “I’m… concerned about something.”

“Is it Trooper business or _personal?_ ”

The sheepish look on his face definitely gave him away.

“ _Kriff’s sake_ ,” shaking his head, Rex rubbed a hand over his face. “Tell me you didn’t get her pregnant…”

“ ** _No_** , nothing like that, sir!” _Maker_ , he could feel his face going red. “We haven’t even—I mean—I’m still— _she’s still_ —”

“ **Calm down** ,” putting a hand up, the Clone Captain had a funny look on his face as he studied the other man for a minute. “What’s the problem, Catcher?”

“Sir,” still flustered, Catcher ran a hand through his hair and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you’d _seen_ her?”

“You haven’t?”

“No, sir.”

The blond looked _shocked_ before stern realization crossed his features. Frowning like he was trying to remember the last time he’d seen the girl himself, Rex hummed and rubbed at his chin.

“Come to think of it, the base has been rather quiet lately,” shooting an amused look in Catcher’s direction, Rex turned his hand up. “If she hasn’t been up here with General Windu, then she hasn’t been here at all.”

Cussing, Catcher clenched his teeth. He didn’t like that; something felt inherently _wrong_ about it.

“You knew it would happen eventually,” Rex’s voice was stern, but soft around the edges. “Those Jedi are incredibly strict about their Code.”

“She’s different,” the other Clone muttered, glancing over towards the Temple looming just across the way.

“Is she?” Rex didn’t sound so sure. When the other man didn’t respond, he set a hand on his shoulder, “You should let it go, Trooper. I need you with your head clear.”

“Yeah,” tearing his eyes away from the Temple, Catcher sighed heavily and started to head back inside. “I’ll do that.”

~*~*~*~

The smell of burning hair still followed her as Iza left the knighting hall, her fingers clenched tight around the braid in her hands. Her whole body vibrated with excitement. She’d done it; she’d passed her Trials and she’d finally been Knighted! She couldn’t rush out the way she’d wanted to—the ceremony was _extremely_ formal—and she couldn’t go running straight to Catcher, either. Master Windu _had_ given her special permission to visit him for a short while once she’d gone back to her chamber and meditated on her accomplishment for at least an hour, but she was not to undo all of the hard work she’d done the last few weeks.

So Iza went back to her chamber and stowed her braid away in the drawer beside her bed, and she sat on the floor to meditate for the hour that seemed to go by too slow for her taste. And once it was up, she left the Temple in a very _poised_ manner. However, the minute she was off the grounds, she took off running like a child up to the compound, robes and hair flying behind her. Skipping the stairs entirely with a Force assisted leap, Iza grunted at the hard landing and smiled brightly at the Troopers she’d spooked.

“ _Damn Jedi_ ,” she heard one of them mutter when she breezed past.

Straightening herself as she approached the barracks, Iza made sure she didn’t look too windswept as she poked her head inside and felt her heart swell when she spotted Catcher in his usual spot near the back with a datapad in his hand. Keeping her hands tucked behind her back, she walked over slowly and stood beside him, leaning over his shoulder and letting her hair brush against his face.

“What are you reading?”

“ _Kriff the Maker!_ ” the datapad flew across the room and would have shattered against the wall if Iza hadn’t thrown a hand out and stopped it mid-air. Looking up at her with a hand on his chest and wide eyes, Catcher didn’t know whether to glare or celebrate. Taking the datapad back when it floated into his line of sight he turned it off and set it aside, rubbing his hands over his face like he was trying to make sure she wasn’t some kind of hallucination. “Little Bit?”

“Hi,” sitting down beside him on the bench, she smiled and purposely swept her hair over her shoulder, hoping he’d notice what was missing. “Did I scare you?”

“Oh— _you think?_ ” shaking his head at her, he fixed her with a pointed look that quickly became a curious one. Leaning over a little, he reached out and nudged her chin to get her to turn her head, eyes widening when he saw the little patch of shorn strands where her braid used to be. Running a fingertip over it to find that they’d been _burned_ and not _torn_ out, he let out a soft huff of a laugh and started to smile slowly. “Look at _you_ , Little Bit. Miss Jedi Knight.”

“We have to celebrate,” she looked eager and she knew it. “I can leave the Temple whenever I want now. We should go into the city.”

Catcher looked like he wanted to object, smiling tightly and setting his hand back in his lap. When he didn’t say anything after a few minutes, Iza’s bright smile faded and she tilted her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think that would be wise, Little Bit,” he said it carefully, like he knew it was going to upset her. “Not that I wouldn’t love to.”

“But?” she pressed, that hopeful gleam in her eye growing dimmer by the second.

“You need to be more careful about the choices you make now, Iza,” it was almost like he’d been given a script to recite. “They’ll be watching you closely, I expect.”

“You sound like Master Windu,” no, she would not keep the disappointment and mild anger from leaking into her tone. Out of everyone, she would have expected Catcher to be the first to jump at the chance to run off and celebrate her hard-earned accomplishment with her.

Lightly clicking his tongue, Catcher started to place his hand over hers and jerked back when she suddenly got to her feet. Unwilling to let her run off, he snatched hold of the back of her dark brown robe and pulled her back down.

“ _Hey_ ,” both hands settled on her shoulders in an attempt to keep her from getting up again and he was surprised that she didn’t try to shove him off. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to celebrate with you. Just that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go into the city together on your first night as a true Jedi.”

She still looked pissed. Her jaw was clenched and her green eyes were fixed on his shoulder instead of his face. He could understand why she was frustrated and truth be told, _he_ was a little annoyed too. There had been no contact between them for over a month. He would have liked to be able to go somewhere private to talk to her instead of wander around the base like he was sure they were going to be stuck doing. It would be nice to just sit and have a drink with her for once without worrying about someone keeping watch.

“I _missed_ you,” he whispered, giving the swell of her cheek a light brush with his thumb. “I’d like it if they didn’t take you away from me like that again.”

Iza’s expression softened dramatically as she stared back at him, mouth opening like she was going to say something. Hesitating, she shook her head and turned her eyes towards her lap.

“It’s my fault,” she let her shoulders sag. “Master Windu was only going to set up my Trials if I... _rid myself of unnecessary attachments_. So I had to isolate myself. I didn’t want to, and I should’ve asked someone to say something to you.”

Well, he supposed he could stop worrying about whether or not she still cared about him. To be fair, her presence in the barracks was proof enough that she still cared. But it had been difficult not to expect her to show up every day for the last few weeks, even after he’d been advised by Rex to just _let it go_. Turning when he heard the sounds of a group of his brothers coming in, he gave her a light nudge.

“C’mon,” he wasn’t going to bother with putting his damn armor on. They weren’t going very far and it wasn’t anywhere he’d really need it anyway. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Iza got to her feet and allowed him to lead her out the back door of the barracks, past the armory and further out towards a stretch of the base that was only patrolled by surveillance droids. Nobody would bother them out here. Taking a seat behind one of the concrete protrusions lining the edge of the dropoff, Catcher smiled faintly as he pulled her onto his lap and snorted at the face she made.

“Do they ever let you wear real clothes? Or are you always stuck in this stiff junk?”

“Unfortunately, this is the uniform,” shrugging as if to say he was used to it, Catcher let her take a minute to get as comfortable as she could, resting his chin on her shoulder when she settled back against his chest.

“At least you don’t have the damned chestplate on,” she muttered, blindly reaching to find his hand and play with his fingers. Tilting her head to rest it against his, she sighed quietly and smiled when he laced his fingers with hers. “You’re warm.”

“You know I’m a _person_ , right?” he teased, snickering softly in her ear. “I’m not a fancy battle droid with flesh, sweetheart.”

“I know,” she could feel his heart beating against her back; she knew good and well that he was a living, breathing person. “I’m just so used to what the armor feels like. This is nice.”

“Yes it is,” turning his head, he lightly kissed her cheek and gave her fingers a squeeze.

“I missed you too, you know,” Iza said after a while, shifting in her spot to look at him. “It’s been hard to think straight. I had to take up stasis meditation so I could get through the headaches. _And_ everything else.”

“What’s that?” Catcher frowned a little. He’d never heard of _stasis meditation_.

Blowing out a breath, Iza chewed the inside of her bottom lip in thought as she tried to figure out a way to explain it.

“It’s like putting yourself into an induced coma— _kind of_. It’s just _very_ intense meditation that, honestly, is kind of addicting when you’re trying not to think about certain things.” Looking over at him, she tilted her head against his and sighed quietly. “It’s not a dangerous thing to do, but Master Windu would prefer it if I saved it for more… serious matters.”

“How bad were the headaches?” Catcher didn’t feel like talking about how she’d been made to keep him out of her thoughts. It made him feel strange and he didn’t like it.

Scoffing out a laugh, the brunette freed one of her hands with the intention of letting her fingers play along his palm.

“Nightmarish. I was in the Medcenter a few times for pain relievers, but they only dulled them. They didn’t get rid of them the way you can.”

“When was your last one?”

“Started about an hour ago,” shrugging her free shoulder, Iza didn’t look particularly bothered. “Probably about halfway through my Trials. I’ve kind of learned to ignore them and focus on—”

She didn’t get much of a chance to say anything else when she was lifted and turned in his lap so she faced him. She also didn’t get a chance to think about how _inappropriate_ it was for her to sit on him like this because he’d gone and slid his fingers into her hair. Noting the look of determination on his face as he sought out just the right pressure points, Iza thought it best not to object. She let out a quiet groan once he’d started rubbing his thumbs against her temples in slow circles, the rest of his fingertips following suit when they’d found their proper places along her scalp. Genuinely unable to help herself, Iza sank into his chest and pressed a palm to the concrete behind his head so she wouldn’t sag against him completely.

“You okay?” he sounded concerned, though there was a hint of tease in his tone.

“Mhm,” nodding, she rested her forehead to his and shut her eyes.

“You’re very tense,” Catcher was becoming more and more amused by the second. “I’m not shocked your headaches are worse.”

“You enjoy this too much,” looking at him through cracked lids, Iza was met with a grin and a kiss to the end of her nose.

“I admit that it’s a guilty pleasure to watch you make this face, yes.”

“I don’t think you feel guilt for it, Catch,” tilting her head forward once he’d started working his fingers down the back of her neck, she cussed quietly and planted her other hand against the concrete for more stability. “That spot right there—that knot you just passed. That’s where it hurts the most.”

“Here?” moving his fingers back up to the dip where the base of her skull met her neck, he gave a quick rub for confirmation.

“ _Uh-huh_ ,” nodding, Iza dropped her head and growled against his shoulder as he started to work the spot with a bit more pressure, dropping a hand to fist it in the front of his undersuit. “Harder,”

“ _Stars,_ Iza,” Catcher blew out a breath and shot her a look, trying to shake off the rush of warmth her tone had given him. “Don’t… do _that_.”

A tug to his undersuit was her only reply and the longer he worked the little knots out of the back of her neck, the more she seemed to melt into him. Soon enough, he was nudging her to get her to sit up, watching her loll her head around on her shoulders and listening to the satisfying set of pops that followed.

“Oh _Force_ ,” the little smile that spread across her lips made that warmth come back and it doubled when she opened her eyes and fixed him with a look he couldn’t quite read. “You’ve got fantastic hands, you know that?”

“You need to watch your mouth,” waving a finger at her, Catcher looked as though he was trying his hardest not to become flustered. Maybe it hadn’t been the best move to put her on his lap like this. He just hated hearing that she was in pain; it was a weakness of his.

Iza looked confused for about ten seconds before letting out a laugh that echoed around them and made her clap her hands over her mouth to stifle the rest of her giggling. When she was sure she had it mostly under control, Iza dropped her hands and bit down on her bottom lip to fight the grin threatening to spread across her face.

“It’s not funny,” Catcher tried to look annoyed but it was difficult to do with her looking at him like that. “You’re a terrible, terrible brat,”

“Am I?” Tilting her head at him, the brunette was hesitant as she smoothed her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. “What does that make you?”

“A damn _sucker_ , that’s what,” brushing hair off of her face, Catcher shook his head at himself and groaned internally at the look on Iza’s face when she leaned into the palm of his hand. “Don’t give me that look. That’s not fair.”

“I missed you,” she’d already told him this but somehow, it was nice to hear it again. The brush of her lips over his gloved wrist was just a bonus. “I wish I could show you how much,”

“Oh Iza,” he had to shake his head at her this time, resisting the urge to wag his finger again. Instead, he leaned in and kissed the spot between her eyes. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Don’t call me that,” her mouth brushed his chin and he tried not to pull back like he’d been burned. _What was with her?_

“Don’t call you by your name?”

“I like it when you call me _Little Bit_.” Shrugging, Iza smiled. “It makes me feel special.”

“You are,” _to hell with it_. Cupping her face in his hands, he began his familiar ritual of planting kisses all over her cheeks and forehead, almost grinning when he’d reached her chin and heard her whine at him. “You’re also quite _friendly_ all of a sudden.”

“You started it,” she was going to grab him and kiss him properly if he didn’t stop taunting her. The sweet little kisses were absolutely welcome, but she’d been pining for months now; he could at least give her a _tiny_ one. “Every time you put your hands in my hair, you start it.”

Leaning back with both brows raised in surprise, Catcher wasn’t sure how to feel about that. _Well_ , that explained a few things.

“Is that so?”

“Catcher,” she was pressing herself flush against his chest again, slipping her arms around his neck. “Please, _be quiet_.”

 _Hey_ , if that was what she wanted, then he was going to go right ahead and shut the hell up. Dropping his arms to her waist when she leaned in, he let out a low growl when she suddenly stopped and tensed.

“What is it?” He asked, grunting as she used his shoulders to push herself to her feet. “Little Bit?”

“Ahsoka, _hi!_ ” Blindly covering Catcher’s mouth with a hand to indicate he needed to stay quiet, she came around the concrete block and approached the Padawan who looked a little confused to see her out here.

“Jedi Tacor?” _Oh good_. Word of her Knighting Ceremony had already gone around. “Why are you here?”

“Stargazing,” pointing upward, she hoped she didn’t look too flushed. “You?”

“Master Skywalker is prepping some Troopers for deployment.” The girl looked her over curiously, her blue eyes shifting to something beyond Iza’s shoulder a few times. “Is someone else out here?”

“No,” turning her hands up, Iza smiled wider. “Just me.”

“I thought I heard someone else,”

“The Clones are a bit loud,” scrunching her nose, the brunette pointed towards the armory where a small group of Catcher’s brothers were hanging out. “Their voices carry sometimes.”

“Uh-huh,” it was clear as day that the Padawan didn’t believe her, but Iza wasn’t going to crack. “Well, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” bowing to the younger girl, her smile became more genuine.

“Be careful out here, okay?” Ahsoka warned, her eyes flicking back to the concrete block. “Your Master is in the hangar.”

Realizing that it was as much of a warning as it was just a random bit of information, Iza nodded almost frantically and bowed her head again.

“Thanks. I will.”

Ahsoka gave a tight smile before she turned and headed back to where her Master must’ve been and Iza cussed out loud, doing her best to refrain from kicking the concrete block. Was this going to happen _every_ time they were alone? Or had her Master sensed something?

“Is it safe?” Catcher asked quietly, peeking around the block.

“Yeah, she’s gone.”

“Thank the Maker,” getting to his feet, the Clone sighed and shook his head. “That was _really_ close.”

“Yeah,” Iza wasn’t amused. She had the distinct feeling Master Windu had sent the Padawan over here on purpose. He knew she’d come to visit Catcher and he was probably making sure she wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t supposed to. She couldn’t wait until he went off with his own damn squad for a little while; it’d be nice to have some real alone time with Catcher for once.

“We should probably—”

The brunette was already starting to cross the compound, looking sour as hell. She knew she ought to be presenting herself with more poise than this, but _man—_ she was pissed. Catcher jogged up alongside her easily and the two did their best to appear as though they’d simply just been walking laps around the place. Green eyes followed the figure of Master Windu when he strolled out of the hangar and didn’t so much as glance in her direction. _Bastard_.

“You—” both of them stopped at the sound of Anakin’s voice, but it was Catcher he was pointing at. “I’ve been looking for you. I need you to suit up and get ready to ship out.”

Blinking a few times, Catcher stood up straighter and nodded.

“Yes sir, General Skywalker. Right away.” Managing to glance at Iza, Catcher offered a quick smile and brushed his knuckles against hers before heading for the barracks.

Watching him go with her mouth hanging half open, Iza turned to look at Anakin, but he’d already started walking away. _Hell no_. Following him with her hands balled into fists, she fought back the urge she had to clock him in the back of the head and instead, lifted her chin.

“ _Master Skywalker_ ,” her voice was a little too firm; she sounded like Windu.

“Yes?” Anakin turned, his dark tabard fluttering lightly.

“That’s…” she bit her tongue and pulled herself up to her full height to try and appear as tall and as important as possible. “That Clone is part of _my_ Squad. You can’t have him. You haven’t run it by me.”

A brow went up as the taller Jedi looked her over and didn’t even try to hide the smirk that crossed his features.

“ _Your_ squad? Forgive me, Jedi Tacor. But I was under the impression that you were only knighted a few hours ago.” She wanted to punch him in the damn mouth. Smug little bastard he was. “I wasn’t aware you’d already been promoted to… Commander?”

“General,” if she was going to lie out of her ass, she was going to make sure it was the biggest damn lie she could feed him.

“Oh, I beg your pardon then. _General_.”

“You can’t take that Clone.”

“I believe that I outrank you on several levels,” tilting his head lightly, he kept his hands tucked behind his back and shrugged carelessly. “I need men. I’m taking that man.”

 _Over her dead damn body_.

“I need him.” If she cranked herself up any higher, she’d have to start standing on her toes.

“He seemed ready to take my orders, Jedi Tacor. Does he know you _need_ him?”

Grinding her teeth, Iza hoped that she wasn’t radiating as much hatred as she felt. Judging by the way the younger man continued to smirk, he was getting a kick out of pissing her off. Licking her bottom lip, she took a deep breath and kept her eyes level with his. She was about to open her mouth to tell him off again when a hand rested on her shoulder and a deep voice sounded from beside her.

“I’m afraid my apprentice is right, Master Skywalker,” Master Windu looked rather placid as he pressed his palm down on Iza’s shoulder in an attempt to make her stand down. “The Clone Trooper is part of her Squad. You’re welcome to borrow one of mine in place if you wish.”

Anakin’s blue eyes shifted between the two Jedi and he waved a hand.

“All right. Thank you, Master Windu.” With a nod of his head and a haughty look in Iza’s direction, the younger Jedi pivoted on his heel and walked off.

“So, _General Tacor_ ,” oh, Master Windu did not sound pleased in the slightest. “Now that you’ve moved yourself up in rank without permission, would you like to discuss your first relief mission?”

“Sir?” Was he being serious?

“You seem to believe you’re ready to lead a group.” Shrugging a shoulder, he moved to steer her towards the barracks. “And we’re short on men for supply runs. It’ll be an easy job for your first run, and a chance to prove that you deserve the title you’ve given yourself.”

Was she ready for something like that? _Sure_. That’s what she’d done all this training for, wasn’t it? It sounded like a _peaceful_ enough mission to do and she doubted that her Master would send her on something that would get her killed her first time out. Besides, she’d have Catcher with her and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, either.

“Yes sir,” nodding firmly, she got the faintest of smirks in return. “I’m ready.”

“Very well,” stepping into the barracks, he gestured to the Clones. “You’ll need a pilot—I’ll loan you one of mine for safety’s sake—and about eighteen other Troopers. For safety.”

“Do you want me to handpick them?” She didn’t know how this worked.

“I think I’ll have Captain Rex handle that. You’ve picked enough of them.” The look he gave her almost made her hang her head, but Iza wasn’t going to crack under that gaze this time. If Anakin’s games weren’t going to make her budge, her Master wasn’t going to break her this time either. Waving towards where Catcher was collecting his armor, Windu cleared his throat. “You may want to tell him.”

“Yes sir,” breaking away from her Master, Iza slowly walked over to the Clone and tucked her hands behind her back; this was going to be fun. “At attention, Trooper,”

Catcher paused in the middle of rooting through his things, a funny look crossing his features before he looked over his shoulder at her. For a minute, he wasn’t entirely sure if she was serious. Judging by the way she was staring at him patiently, she was _damn_ serious. Putting down the shoulder pads he’d been preparing to put on, Catcher pulled himself up to his full height and stared straight ahead with his chest puffed out slightly.

“You’ve been recruited to _my_ squad, Trooper Catcher,” how she was managing to keep a straight face was beyond him. “You’ll refer to me as General Tacor, and you’ll report to _me_ unless instructed otherwise, is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” he gave a firm nod.

“Good.” Glancing to see whether or not Master Windu had left yet, Iza pursed her lips lightly when she saw him talking to Rex and cleared her throat. “At ease, Trooper,”

“ _What did you do?_ ” Catcher asked in a hushed tone, turning to go back to gathering up his armor.

“I found a way to keep an eye on you,” she answered, saluting him almost sarcastically. “Don’t complain. We’ll be meeting with the rest of the squad to discuss the assignment soon. Make sure you’re ready.”

Watching her turn to head back over to her Master, Catcher shook his head slowly and blew out a heavy breath.

“ _Terrible_ little brat, she is.”


	3. Light 'em Up

“Has the Captain gone thermal? What’s he thinking, sticking us with a shinie like that?”

“Give her a chance, Unk. They all start _somewhere_.”

“Usually they have some field experience before they start hauling us around. This one hasn’t even left that cushy Temple.”

“She’s going to hear you.”

“I couldn’t give a bloodrat’s a—”

“Is there a problem?” Iza was getting a little tired of the gossip. She’d been sitting up front with her borrowed pilot doing her best to ignore the chatter coming from the back of the ship, but the longer it went on, the harder it’d become to ignore. Catcher and some of the other Clones were in the cargo hold checking up on the goods they were set to deliver, so he wasn’t around to nip this in the bud. She was going to have to do it herself.

“No sir,” the Clone who called himself Unk smiled and shook his head. “Karver and I were just having a chat.”

 _Yeah_ , she knew. Shifting her shoulders under the armor she’d been instructed to wear, Iza glanced between the two and gestured for them to stand.

“Stand at attention, Troopers,” she was going to ignore the fact that they’d just exchanged a look of disbelief with one another before obeying the command. “Which one of you was the one who called me a _shinie?_ ”

Karver was quick to rat his brother out as he pointed to Unk, who probably would’ve punched the other man had he not been made to stand in line like this.

“From what I understand, that’s not exactly the _nicest_ thing you could call me, Trooper—what’s your name?”

“CT-893—”

“Not your number, Trooper. _Your name_.”

Surprise seemed to flash across the Clone’s face before he cleared his throat.

“Unk, sir. The name is Unk.”

“Well Unk,” standing in front of him Iza looked up with a faint smile on her lips. He was a scary looking bastard, wasn’t he? He had the same face as the rest of his brothers, but his nose was a little crooked and his eyes looked _mean_. Tattoos crawled all along his neck and ended just below his chin and he looked like he hadn’t had a good shave in a few days. He was definitely the kind of guy you didn’t want to piss off. “You might not be pleased to have me as your General, but I _know_ you have more respect for Captain Rex than this. Are you sure you want to question his decision in making you part of my squad? Maybe he knows something _you_ don’t about this… _shinie_.”

He seemed to go through about five different emotions before settling on reluctant acceptance.

“Yes sir. My apologies, sir,”

“At ease,” glancing to Karver, she nodded at him. “Both of you.”

“General Tacor,” Karver hadn’t sat down yet, but he relaxed his shoulders and eyed her up and down a few times. “You’re General Windu’s apprentice, right?”

“That’s correct. Why?”

The men exchanged a look and snorted.

“With all due respect to your Master, he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to encourage you to use our names. He even refers to his own men as _Trooper_ individually.” Unk’s smirk was a bit pointed, like he’d fully expected Iza to do the same with her squad.

“Master Windu has his methods and his reasons for those methods—and I have _mine_.” smiling, Iza shrugged a shoulder. “The way that I see it, it’s more respectful to refer to someone by their _name_. If you prefer to be addressed by your CT number, I can do that too.” Looking to the door as it slid open to reveal Catcher and the others, she kept her professional stance and returned her attention back to the two Troopers. “But this goes both ways, gentlemen. I would appreciate it if you called me by my _name_. If you’re having a hard time accepting me as your General, then Jedi Tacor is fine. I understand if you feel I haven’t earned my rank. You’re not the only ones who share the sentiment.”

Giving a nod of her head to dismiss herself, Iza turned to head out of the rather crowded passenger hub and into one of the halls leading to a chamber room full of bunks. Once behind the door, she let out the breath she’d been holding and let her shoulders sag, rubbing her hands over her face. _What the hell had she been thinking?_ None of these men aside from Catcher trusted her—not that she blamed them—and they certainly didn’t respect her. What the hell was going to happen if they got to where they were going and they were met with enemy fire? Would they listen to her command _at all?_ They _had_ to, didn’t they?

“Hey,” Catcher’s voice startled her and she pushed away from the wall, trying to look as poised as possible. She knew she didn’t _need_ to, but they had to act professional around each other right now. It wasn’t easy when he was looking at her with soft concern in his eyes like that. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Forcing a smile, she tried to pretend that her fingers weren’t twitching near the ends of her hair. She couldn’t tug at it around these men; the tic would just add to the list of shit they had to talk about. “Is everything ready?”

“Yeah,” he didn’t look entirely convinced that she was okay, but he also seemed to know there wasn’t much he could do. Stepping further into the room so that the door would shut, Catcher raised an eyebrow. “Which one of them was it?”

“What?”

“Who was giving you a hard time?” He’d propped his hands on his hips and was giving her a serious look that made her belly flutter.

“Catcher,” trying not to laugh, Iza pursed her lips at him. “I can handle—”

“General,” Catcher looked like he was trying not to lose his patience. _Damn_. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen that look in his eye before. It was kind of hot, honestly. “I understand you want to appeal to these men, but you shouldn’t let them walk all over you. _Shinie_ is not a term they should use for you and they know it. For all intents and purposes, you _are_ their superior. No matter how new you are to this.”

He had a point.

“You can go out there and be as nice as you want to them. Nobody is going to stop you. But you need to remember that these are _soldiers_ , Iza— _General_. They follow orders and they respond to harsher attitudes than what you’re giving them. They don’t respond to softness.”

“Not like you?” She probably shouldn’t have said it out loud, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. Watching his lips twitch as he tried not to smile, Iza wasn’t surprised when he shook his head at her in warning. Now wasn’t the time for this.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, sir? If you want to earn their respect, you can’t treat them like babies.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He looked like he wanted to seal that with a kiss to her forehead, but Catcher kept his distance and just nodded instead, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “Get back out there and show them you’re not going to take their shit.”

_Yes **sir**._

Steeling herself, Iza took a quick breath and headed back to the front of the ship, breezing past the Troopers who were all chatting amongst themselves. Looking for all the world like she was just checking in on how far they were from their destination, she focused her ears on the different conversations until she settled on one that made her bristle.

“She’s going to get us _killed_. If any of us make it back to base, I’m demanding a transfer.”

“General Skywalker’s Padawan would make a better General. She’s a damn joke. Asking for our _names_ —honestly.”

“At least she’s not terrible to look at. Makes it easier to put up with her.”

Letting out a huff and rolling her head on her shoulders to crack her neck, Iza turned and scowled back at the group.

“All of you, _on your feet_ ,” she barked, watching every head in the hub turn to look at her. When they didn’t immediately listen, she took a few steps forward and kicked someone’s helmet down the middle of the hall simply because it was in her way. “Did I stutter, gentlemen? _Stand at attention, **now**._”

Every last Clone in the place stood straight and tall, eyes facing forward while she walked in between them with her hands tucked against the small of her back. Taking a few seconds to breathe and settle some of the anger in her gut, Iza lifted her chin and surveyed them.

“I don’t want to have this fucking conversation again,” _ooh_ , she’d been hanging out with Catcher for too long. She was picking up words she shouldn’t use. “I understand you don’t _like_ having me as your General and you know what? _I don’t care_. You were handpicked by Captain Rex for a reason. You will respect his decision and you will _respect **me**_.” Surveying their faces to see whether or not any of them had silent objections, she caught sight of one Clone who looked a little annoyed. Going to stand in front of him, she fixed him with a hard look. “You. CT number and name, if you’ve got one.”

“CT-89837. Name’s Ze, sir.”

“Do you have a _problem_ with what I’m saying, Ze?” Quirking a brow, she watched him look down at her like he was hesitating. “Or do you have a problem with _me?_ Because I’ll happily send you back to the compound and let Captain Rex know exactly how cooperative you’ve been. In fact—” pivoting on her heel to continue walking up and down between the two lines of men, she shrugged a shoulder and avoided Catcher’s gaze. She’d likely break character if she so much as glanced at him. “I could just as easily swap every last one of you out for new men who don’t have issues following my orders or putting trust in me. I can swap you out for men who won’t see me as something _pretty_ to look at and will give me the damn respect I deserve.”

She had to pause to let the words sink in, but also to reel in the agitation. She didn’t want to let the power trip go to her head; she just wanted them to _listen_.

“We have a _job_ to do, Troopers. So if you can set aside your petty prejudice against me for the duration of it, I will _happily_ release you back to Captain Rex when we return to Coruscant. Until then,” she’d made it back to the front of the ship and turned around to face them. “You are under _my_ command and you _will_ treat me with some fucking respect. Understood?”

A loud chorus of _yes sir_ echoed through the room and Iza felt some of the tension in her shoulders melt away. _Thank the stars_.

“Good. At ease, boys.” Watching as the group all began to relax—aside from the one Trooper whose helmet had been shot down the hall who’d gotten up to retrieve it—Iza dared a glance in Catcher’s direction. Noting the proud look on his face, she gave a quick raise of her brow and a simple smile before turning around to continue waiting out the ride to their destination.

~*~*~*~

Adrenaline flooded Iza’s veins as she charged in front of the pack of Clones, lightsaber drawn and thrumming as she held it up to block incoming blaster bolts. They hadn’t _expected_ the flood of battle droids, but hey—she wasn’t entirely upset to see some action. It gave her a chance to put some of the things she’d learned over the years to good use. It was almost exciting to be able to use her Force abilities to knock the droids back and give herself room to hack and slash her way through them. Dodging the bolts wasn’t easy by any means—especially when she had to sense them from _both_ sides—but it only added to the thrill. Somewhere in between clearing out a path with three of the Clones so that the others could get the supplies through and realizing there was a second and third wave of droids on their way, Iza found herself back to back with a Clone carrying a bag of round grenades.

“Here,” he started handing them over to her and pointed to the mass of slow-moving tinnies heading in their direction. “Press that button and just chuck it under the bastards.”

Nodding, she did as instructed, pressing her thumb down on the trigger before tossing the little ball towards the group of droids. Watching as it exploded in a burst of blue light that shocked a cluster of droids and had them falling over like absolutely useless buckets of tin, Iza grinned a little and took another armload of the grenades before rushing off to drop more. Weaving in between the flashes of red light, she got a _little_ too cocky with detonating and throwing the grenades and forgot to watch out for stray bolts.

She went down _hard_ when her shoulder was hit; shouting in surprise and laying in the dirt for a minute while she tried to shake the stars from her vision. _Damn_ , that hurt. Thank the Maker for the fucking armor.

“ _General!_ ” someone grabbed her by the front of her robes and hauled her to her feet, giving her a once-over and patting her hard on the back when they realized she was all right. “Keep moving. We’ve got this.”

Nodding, she ran forward again, igniting her lightsaber and tossing the _one_ grenade she’d managed to keep hold of into a group of droids. When they’d fallen over, she stood trying to catch her breath and looked around to see if there were any more coming. That _couldn’t_ be the last of them, could it? The heavy rumble behind the trees told her _no_ ; there were definitely more of these bastards on the way. The real question was whether or not she and her men would be able to take them all out. The squad seemed pretty damn eager to keep moving ahead, and Iza hadn’t given up the fight just yet. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, she darted forward and stopped dead when she came face to face with a tank.

Well— _that_ was great. How the hell was she supposed to—

“ _Move!_ ”

She was pretty sure she was going to leave this battlefield as one giant bruise with the way she kept getting tossed around. The shoulder of the Clone who’d knocked her aside felt like it’d been made of steel when it hit her and knocked the wind out of her. But she didn’t have time to sit around and try to recover, too busy running through the options she had. It seemed as though her men had it handled, however, as they tossed poppers into the tank and ran around it, firing their blasters at the droids marching behind it. It was when Iza saw one of them take a bolt to the chest and hit the ground without getting back up again that something in her head just _snapped_.

Pushing away from the Trooper trying to keep her covered from enemy fire, she stormed forward with a yell that caught the attention of the group of clankers. A quick toss of her hand had the droids letting out confused noises as they were lifted off of their feet and they seemed to crumple like paper in mid-air when she closed her hand in a tight fist and brought it back down, slamming them back into the dirt. The next few that ran up met with the same fate and when she was sure that there were none left aside from the few strays her men were already taking care of, she knelt beside the fallen Trooper and carefully pulled his helmet off.

“Trooper,” giving his face a tap, Iza waited for a response. Her chest hurt from the way it heaved when he didn’t even twitch. Shaky fingers went to check his pulse and she sat back on her heels with a sick feeling in her stomach as realization washed over her. He was dead. She’d lost one.

“General,” someone ran up beside her out of breath, carrying a med-pack and looking concerned. “ _General_ , are you hurt?”

“Take him back to the ship.” She’d be fine. Her body had been trained well enough to withstand worse. “Get those damn supplies through.”

“Yes sir,” nodding, the man waved to another pair of Clones for assistance while Iza pulled herself to her feet.

Someone came up behind her and set a hand on her shoulder but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Blood was rushing to her ears and that need to be sick was overwhelming now. Turning, she lurched forward and vomited into the dirt, feeling hands rush to pull her hair out of her face. Adrenaline had caught up to her as well as the smell of fried circuits and her own blood seeping out from her nose. She must’ve smacked her face when she’d been tackled. Heaving again, she heard someone call for water and tried to collect herself before a second Clone ran up with a bottle in his hand.

“First time’s always the hardest,” Unk passed the water bottle off to her with an almost _gentle_ look in his eye. “Doesn’t get any easier, but you learn to live with it.”

Doing her best not to choke as she sipped at the water and rinsed her mouth out, Iza shook her head.

“No,” weary eyes shifted to the Clone still holding onto her hair, surprised to see that it _wasn’t_ Catcher, but the Clone who’d handed off the grenades. She remembered the red design on his helmet that matched the tattoo on his face. “That… is unacceptable.”

Both men exchanged a look but only the one holding her hair back spoke.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Not…” she had to blow out a breath when her stomach rolled again. “Not my squad. I won’t… I won’t fucking tolerate…” covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she was glad that only a burp followed the next hard lurch of her stomach. “This is on _me_. I’m in charge. I won’t lose men, do you understand?”

Looking at each other again and then back at her, they seemed to nod in agreement for her sake.

“Good,” looking over to where the rest of the squad was bringing in the supplies, she gestured towards them. “Go help them. I have to clean up before I meet with _anyone_.”

“Yes sir,”

Waiting for them to walk off, Iza kicked dirt over the mess she’d made before rinsing her mouth out again and using some of the water to clean her face off. _Man_ , that had drained the life out of her. She was going to have to have her shoulder and her chest looked at when they got back to the ship. For now, she had to greet the head of the village these supplies were for and hope that her stomach would hold up long enough for her to stay professional.

~*~*~*~

“How are you holding up?” Catcher asked as he stepped into the Medchamber, side-stepping the medical droid so he could prop himself against the wall beside Iza’s uncomfortable looking bunk.

“It’s just a bit of bruising and a clipped shoulder,” she shrugged, pulling her robes closed for the sake of her modesty. “I’ll live.”

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant. I’m fine.”

Clicking his tongue, Catcher glanced over his shoulder and reached out to brush his knuckles down the side of her bruised cheek.

“You did good, Little Bit. _One_ casualty is pretty—”

“It’s intolerable.” She muttered, glaring at the wall. “I was _trusted_ with your lives and I lost one.”

“You can’t beat yourself up over that, Iza,” unable to help himself, Catcher pinched her chin between forefinger and thumb and turned her head so she would look at him. “It’s a _war_ , sweetheart. Some of us don’t come back.”

“ _Some of us_ don’t have the same attitude about it.” Swatting his hand, Iza frowned hard as her jaw wobbled. “I am a _Jedi_ , Catcher. My job is to keep people safe. What good am I if I can’t protect my own men?”

“I think you did a pretty damn good job of protecting us, actually.” Waving a hand, he propped it on his hip and frowned right back at her. “Don’t think I didn’t see you throwing yourself in front of those bolts, Iza. You put yourself in more danger than necessary to protect those Troopers. You’ve definitely made them think twice about you.”

“What?”

“Oh, you didn’t notice?” He smirked faintly, letting out a laugh. “They haven’t shut up about how you scrapped the clankers with your little Force fingers.” Wiggling his fingers at her, his smirk became a wide grin. “Popper is a big fan of your spirit.”

“Popper?”

“Red tattoo on his face? Real fond of his grenades?”

“Oh,”

“Listen,” sitting on the edge of the bed, Catcher was careful not to take her hand when the medic droid rolled back over and fiddled with a few machines. “My point is that you need to give yourself some damn credit, Little Bit. You got your shit rocked out there and you got back up and gave the bolt buckets _hell_. The men out there are beyond impressed. You wanted their respect and you’ve definitely earned it.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are _you_ impressed?” Iza raised an eyebrow and waited while Catcher mulled the question over.

“I’m impressed,” he drawled, giving her a look. “But I’m also absolutely furious with you for being so reckless. You’re lucky you only walked away with _that_ ,” gesturing to her shoulder wound, Catcher shook his head. “This is why I hung back with Karver. I knew that if I was up front with you, I’d be too much of a wreck to concentrate on anything else.”

“I held my own,” Iza frowned, understanding his point but also feeling a little put out that it seemed like he didn’t trust her to take care of herself.

“You did, but you also got shot _and_ stood in front of a tank like an idiot.”

“I’m sorry—what the hell does one do when a tank just _rolls up_ out of nowhere?”

“They _move_ , Iza. That’s what they do.”

“I _did_.”

“No,” he waved a finger at her, reminding her very much of Master Windu with the gesture. “Unk saved your ass. You would’ve been _dust_ if he hadn’t been there.”

“It was my first time!” And she hadn’t exactly been trained for **war** combat. “You just got done telling me how good of a job I did! Now you want to scold me for _being reckless?_ ”

“I’m not… scolding.” Sighing, the Clone ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the wall of the medical bunk. “I’m telling you what your mistakes were so you don’t make them again next time.”

“Hm, okay…” nodding, Iza shot him a look. “Are you done trying to be my Master?”

“What?”

“Are you done trying to be my Master? Telling me what my _mistakes_ were so I can _learn_ from them?”

“Iza—”

“I already know how I messed up, Catcher. You don’t think I haven’t been sitting here going over the whole thing this entire time, trying to figure out what I could’ve done differently?” The look she gave him was bitter, as was the tight smile that followed. “I don’t need you to point out my fuckups. Get out.”

His eyes went wide at her tone. Maybe he’d been a little out of line to assume that she wasn’t thinking about what she could do next time they were out on the battlefield, but _damn_. He hadn’t thought she’d get that mad at him.

“Little Bit—”

“ _That’s an order_.”

Well, shit.

“Yes sir,” pushing away from where he sat Catcher started to leave, pausing when he heard her huff in pain as she settled down on the bed. Biting down on his tongue as he tried to figure out whether or not he ought to ask if she was all right, he felt an invisible hand on his back nudge him towards the door and just sighed. Okay. He got the message. Heading back to the main area serving as the barracks for him and his brothers, he grunted when he brushed shoulders with someone as he passed them in the hall.

“How’s she doing?” Karver asked, pointing towards the Medchamber.

“She seems fine. Bit edgy, but that might be the pain killers.”

“She’s a tough kid. Got some serious rage in her, too.”

“That she does,” letting out a short laugh, Catcher shot the other man a look. “I didn’t know she could do… _that_.”

“I thought all Jedi could do that kind of shit?”

“You’re asking the wrong man, man. I only know what I’ve seen and I’ve only ever seen clankers get chucked and pushed around. I’ve never seen a Jedi _crush_ one like that before.”

Rubbing his thumb over his chin, Karver frowned in thought.

“Come to think of it, neither have I.” Turning his hand up, the other man grinned. “S’pretty cool to watch, though.”

“Yeah,” Catcher smiled briefly.

“Okay—” leaning on the wall, Karver propped his cheek against his knuckles and smirked at his brother. “What’s going on with you? You’re never one to turn down a celebration, yet you’re the _only_ one not in there having a drink. You look like someone just told you you’re getting your choobs cut off when we land. What’s the deal, Catcher?”

“She blames herself for Buck. I can’t get through to her that losing _one_ is… almost unheard of these days.”

“It’s her first run. She’ll get used to it.”

“She doesn’t _want_ to.” Snorting, Catcher looked at Karver and waved a hand. “You saw her out there. Trying to be in twenty places at once. She’ll kill herself before she loses another one of us.”

“The Jedi are weird like that.”

“Have you ever been in another squad with a Jedi who does something like that?”

“General Skywalker’s pretty good about keeping his men safe.” Karver shrugged. “He leads the pack the same way she did.”

“I hate that she did that.” Catcher regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, mostly because of the tone he’d used. If anything was going to give away his feelings for her, it would be the bitterness in his voice over an action that was being regarded as brave by everyone else. Unfortunately, once he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Running ahead like that—I don’t care how much damn training she’s had with that lightsaber. You saw how quick she got knocked down while throwing droid poppers. She doesn’t… she needs to fucking _focus_.”

“I admit that the kid could use a little work with her technique. We’ve got some time when we get back to base. We could give her more pointers.” Karver eyed the other man for a moment, and then tilted his head with a slow smile. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“What?”

“Oh _come on,_ Catcher,” rolling his eyes, the other Clone slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders and grinned even wider. “You do realize we all live in the same damn barracks, right? We’ve all seen that girl come and go at _strange_ hours. You’re the only one she ever talked to.”

“So we’re friends. What of it?”

“ _Friends_. Okay.” Chuckling, Karver gave Catcher a quick nudge. “Listen—whatever that girl means to you, _I get it_. But you don’t need me to tell you that she’s the last thing you need to worry about out there. _Clearly_ she can take care of herself. She just needs a little fine-tuning.”

“Don’t go in there to tell her that right now,” Catcher warned, jerking his head towards the Medchamber. “With the mood she’s in, she’d probably tear your arm off and beat you with it for suggesting she needs _fine tuning_.”

Karver’s booming laugh echoed through the hallway and the slap he gave to Catcher’s shoulder made the man jerk forward. _Maker_ , the man must’ve had more to drink than it seemed.

“Sounds like my kind of lady,” his grin was teasing when Catcher shot him an unamused look. “Hey—it’s just jokes. She’s all yours.”

“Keep that to yourself, Karv.” Catcher muttered, shaking his head. “Nobody else needs to know anything.”

“No worries, brother. My lips are _sealed_.”

~*~*~*~

“Jedi Tacor,” Master Windu was waiting on the platform when Iza and her men filed out of their ship, his eyes looking her over in silent scrutiny. “Welcome back,”

“Thank you, sir.” She was _exhausted_. Despite the pain killers and bacta patches, she’d been unable to get any sleep in the Medchamber. The loud celebration in the barracks had a lot to do with that, but mostly it’d been her inability to get her brain to stop running through the events on the battlefield that had kept her awake.

“Debrief is in an hour.”

“Yes sir.”

“Well done, Jedi.”

“Thank you, sir,” bowing as much as her still-sore ribs would allow, Iza watched Windu turn to go talk to his pilot, leaving her to start dragging herself towards the Temple.

“ _One_ black bag. Impressive.”

Turning weary eyes to Captain Rex, she found him standing just off to the side with an amazed look on his face. Straightening herself, she took a deep breath and smiled tightly.

“I wish it was one less than that, Captain.”

His expression became even more stunned, if possible.

“General,” he spoke carefully, waving to the bodybag that was being carried away. “You realized we usually come back with dozens of those?”

“I know. I’ve seen.” The thought was making her queasy.

“So you understand that having just _one_ is—”

“I apologize, Captain, but I don’t share the sentiment. _One_ is one too many for me. Excuse me,” she wasn’t going to be able to have this conversation _again_. She understood what everyone was trying to say and she did appreciate the concealed compliments for bringing back as many of her men as she had, but Iza _still_ felt like she’d failed. The heavy clomping of boots coming up behind her made her set her jaw and she might’ve readied herself to snap at whoever it was had they not spoken first.

“General Tacor,” it was Unk. “A few of the men and I were talking and we’d like to—with your permission—maybe show you some stuff that might tighten things up for the next trip out?”

Iza paused in her tracks and stared up at him.

“Did Catcher put you up to this?” She asked, getting a shake of the head in return.

“No sir,” if he was lying, he was doing a damn good job at it. “We thought it might be a good idea to get you a little more used to a battlefield. We know you Jedi aren’t trained for that sort of thing.”

“What’s Captain Rex have to say about it? He’s going to be the one who has to loan out the space and equipment.”

“Actually—we’ll have to run that by Commander Cody, sir.” Unk didn’t look too bothered as he waved a hand. “I don’t think it will be a problem. They’ve been letting General Skywalker’s Padawan on the course for a few months now.”

Why didn’t that surprise her?

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I’d like to not walk away with as much bruising next time,” glancing up as her squad began to file past them, her eyes followed Catcher when he simply passed by without even sparing a single peek in her direction. “Yeah, I’ll take you up on that, Unk. Go talk to Commander Cody and get back to me later.”

“Yes General,” giving a light wave that she supposed was his version of a quick salute, the Clone went to join his brothers while Iza stood in her spot.

“Trooper Catcher,” she watched him stop and turn his head. “A word, please?”

He hesitated before turning back and walking over, standing in front of her with one brow raised expectantly. But Iza didn’t want to talk to him here. Nodding for him to follow, she led him off into a room that was typically saved for meditation and leaned up against the wall once the door had closed.

“Hi,” she said quietly, watching him try to keep from smiling.

“Hi,”

“Are we okay?”

The question surprised him and Catcher let out a quiet laugh, coming over to rest a hand on her cheek and bring his forehead down to touch it to hers.

“Of course we are, Little Bit,” lightly stroking the pad of his thumb against the curve of her jaw, he finally smiled at her and probably would have leaned in for a kiss if she hadn’t put a hand up to stop him. “What is it?”

“This is a sacred space, Catch,” she didn’t mind bringing him in here to talk, but Iza felt strange doing things she knew were against the Code inside of the Temple. “I have debrief in an hour and I’ll be free after that. Would you like to go into the city with me for a while?”

“I think I can do that,” shutting his eyes, he lightly nuzzled his nose over hers and smiled wider when he pulled back. “Meet me at the compound when you’re ready.”

“See if they’ll loan you _civilian_ clothes, will you? I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to walk around wearing _this_ ,” gently tapping her knuckles against his chestplate, Iza grinned.

“Will you be wearing something other than those robes?”

“I… don’t own anything else.”

“Not even in another color?”

“I…” looking down at the beige and brown robes she wore, Iza bit down on her bottom lip. She’d picked these specifically because they were the same as her Master’s. It was her way of showing her respect for him on a daily basis. She’d never thought about investing in anything in a different color before.

“I’m teasing,” lightly thumbing her chin, he smiled and gave her a little nudge. “Come on. Before someone comes in here and thinks the worst.”

Opening the door, Iza walked out first and cleared her throat before shooting him a look when he followed after.

“I will _not_ tolerate that sort of behavior on my team, is that understood?” she barked at him, having seen a few stray Troopers milling around behind them.

“Yes sir,” he was fighting not to smirk.

“Good. Get to where you need to go, Trooper. Dismissed.”

“ _Yes sir,_ ”


	4. Wanna Feel Your Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead~

“Is this _really_ their idea of civilian wear?” Iza asked when she’d met up with Catcher later that evening, gesturing to the outfit he wore. It didn’t look _terrible_ by any means, but it wasn’t going to make him blend in very well. Black trousers, tall boots, and a black jacket that was so very obviously of military design didn’t really look like something a normal Coruscantian resident would wear. But hey—at least it wasn’t that damn armor.

“Says the woman who doesn’t know how _not_ to dress like a Jedi,” making a face at her, Catcher rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his clothes with a huff. “Listen, they wouldn’t give me anything that didn’t reflect my job. I just _barely_ got out of having to take a damn blaster with me.” Looking her over, he smiled and waved a hand. “I do like what you’ve got on, though. Where’d you get it?”

Iza took hold of the thick material of the rather modest dark blue dress she wore and tried not to look sheepish.

“Kinda stole it from where they keep some of the stuff we use for undercover assignments. It was the only thing that fit that didn’t look like a Twi’lek designed it.” Honestly, it was the only thing she’d been comfortable enough to wear. Years of keeping her body wrapped in layers of robes had conditioned her to lean more towards things that covered her up. She had to admit though—some of the other outfits had been tempting, but she never would’ve been able to leave the Temple in them.

“Yeah?” she wasn’t sure if she liked the look on his face. “That’d be a sight.”

Giving his arm a swat, Iza ducked her head to hide the way her cheeks were turning pink. Smiling to herself when he nudged her and offered his arm, the brunette took it and allowed him to lead the way off of the base. They walked in silence for a short while until they’d reached the civilian walkpath and she felt comfortable enough to lean into him and rest her head against his arm.

“Is it horrible if I’m excited about this?” She asked, looking up at him and getting an odd smile in return.

“Why would that be horrible, Little Bit?”

“Because we’re just walking around,”

“We might get something to eat, or have a drink. You never know.” He winked at her and shook his arm free to drop it around her shoulders, pulling her close and planting a kiss to the top of her head. It felt nice to be able to do that freely for once. For all anyone knew, they were just a young couple on a night out; as long as Iza kept her lightsaber covered, no one would have a damn clue. “I admit, I’m excited too.”

The words made her belly flutter in a wonderful way and Iza couldn’t keep from sliding her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek into his side. After a minute or so, she pulled back and looked up at him.

“You smell _really_ nice,” a little bit like caf and something kind of spicy. “What is that?”

Catcher’s laugh caught the attention of a few people, but the Clone didn’t seem to notice.

“I took a shower. I think you’ve gotten too used to the smell of a bunch of battle worn men, Little Bit.” Twisting a lock of her hair around his fingers, he gave a playful tug and snickered at her. “You’re fucking cute, you know that?”

“Be quiet, Catcher,” feeling her cheeks heat, Iza looked away from him again but didn’t stop the smile that spread across her lips. “You have such a foul mouth.”

“Does it bother you?” His question was genuine, as was the look on his face as he tilted his head to try and get her to look at him again.

“No,” pressing her lips together tight so the smile wouldn’t grow any wider, the brunette kept her eyes facing forward and automatically leaned into the fingertips he brushed against her cheek. “But it’s rubbing off on me. I almost said that word in front of Master Kenobi earlier.”

“ _That_ would be something to witness. I wonder if he even knows what _fuck_ means.”

“ _Catcher!_ ”

“Do _you_ even know what it means, Little Bit?” Looking at her curiously he watched the way her eyes widened and the flush on her cheeks turned bright scarlet and had to bite back a laugh. Yeah; she definitely knew.

“You’re _mean_.” She pouted, wishing she could flip the hood of her robe up and hide her face. Pretending to be disgruntled when he kissed the side of her head, Iza huffed quietly and was content to let silence fall between them again. They walked slowly through the crowd, staying incredibly close to one another until Catcher slowed and gave her a nudge.

“Hungry?”

“A little,” she’d brought some credits with her that were leftover from the last time she’d been allowed down here. “What do you feel like having?”

“Anything that isn’t rations. A man can only eat so many tiny nutritional squares in his life.”

“There’s a night market a few more blocks up towards the bad end,” pointing in the direction she was referring to, she looked up at him. “The food at the stalls is a little pricy but it’s good.”

“I’m gonna trust your judgement there, sweetheart.”

“I used to come down here with Master Windu when I was younger. I know exactly where to go.”

Looking reasonably satisfied with that answer, Catcher let her lead the way. Once he started getting little whiffs of different foods in the air, he felt his stomach growl and gave a sheepish sort of smile when Iza looked up at him.

“I think _you’re_ hungrier than I am,” she teased, pursing her lips like she was trying not to smile. “Pick whatever you want. I already know what I’m getting.”

“And what’s that?”

“There’s a droid that sells crawlfish skewers that are _to die for_. They’re _huge_.” Twisting her face in thought, she hummed. “I’m pretty sure they’re meant for two people, but I can eat a whole skewer by myself.”

“I’ve seen you put away rations, sweetheart. I believe it.” Winking when she gave him an indignant look, Catcher hooked a finger beneath her chin and pressed the softest of kisses to her lips. “Don’t take offense. I’ve seen all of the Jedi eat the way you do.”

But Iza didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he was saying anymore. Her green eyes were fixed on his pretty brown ones and she’d started leaning into his side a little more. When Catcher noticed that she hadn’t responded to anything he’d said, he raised an eyebrow and traced his fingertip over her chin.

“What’s that look for, Little Bit?”

“You kissed me.”

 _So he had_.

“I did,” he smiled slowly, poking the tip of his tongue out from between his teeth. “Is that all right?”

“You’re gonna ask me that _now_ ,” Iza scoffed, giving him a look. “After I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve _almost_ kissed and _almost_ been caught? You’re gonna ask me if it’s—”

A firm hand grasped her chin and tilted her head up again and the brunette was silenced by the press of his lips against hers once more. The arm around her shoulders dropped to her waist and pulled her in close as Catcher parted his lips just enough to fit them to hers better, surprised when she opened up to him with a sigh. At first, Iza wasn’t quite sure what the hell to do with her hands, so she settled for resting them against the small of his back. The hand on her chin slid to the back of her neck and cradled her head as he tentatively deepened the kiss, hissing quietly when she pressed her nails into him.

“Take it easy,” he murmured against her lips, finding that he couldn’t bring himself to pull away completely. “We’re in _public_ , Little Bit.”

“Your fault,” she mumbled back, following his lead when he kissed her again and dared to take a quick taste of the inside of her mouth. “ _Always_ your fault.”

He knew it wasn’t a good idea to just stand in the middle of the walkpath like this, but _Maker_ —it was difficult to break away from her long enough to make a rational decision. Finally settling for giving her several tinier little kisses as he pulled back, Catcher tried not to laugh at the way she followed him and stood on her tiptoes trying to reach him. Opening his eyes to look at her, he wished he hadn’t. She was giving him such a pleading look that he almost groaned out loud, the hand resting on her hip giving it a squeeze that caused her to whine and nestle closer. This was a _bad_ idea; he could feel eyes on them and heard snickers from passing civilians. They needed to at least get off of the street.

“Little Bit,” the hand at the back of her neck began to absently rub at her skin and he knew immediately that he was making it worse when she dug her nails deeper into his back and pulled at his jacket. “We should go somewhere else,”

She looked frustrated, but compliant.

“All right,” _damn_ her voice was rough. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get to him a little. “Where?”

“Anywhere not here,”

“What’s it cost for a room?”

“Excuse me?” He had to laugh. She’d skipped quite a few steps with that one.

“ _Catch_ ,” exhaling harshly through her nose, Iza gave his jacket another tug. “We can’t go back to the base _or_ the Temple and do this. How much does it cost for a room?”

She had a point. Even if all they did was order take-away and sit around making out for the duration of the time, they’d need somewhere private. A room at a hostel would be the best bet.

“I don’t know. Not cheap.”

“Even for a few hours?”

“Sweetheart, you’re asking the wrong man.”

Iza whined again and looked around like the pricing guide for a Love Hostel would just pop up out of nowhere on one of the holo-screens floating around. When she couldn’t seem to find what she was looking for, she pulled away from him and took hold of him by the front of his jacket, tugging him along behind her.

“ _Take it easy_ ,” laughing at her, Catcher looped his arm around her waist to pull her back to his side and buried his nose in her hair. “You’re in such a hurry. We have a while, Little Bit. It’s still early.”

She knew he had a point but _damn_. Her head was spinning so hard that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Not to mention the fact that he’d left her body humming like a fucking lightsaber, hot and insanely _dangerous_ to touch. Taking a minute to try and center herself—it didn’t work—she slowed her pace reluctantly and kept her eyes peeled for somewhere they could go.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Catcher asked after a good five minutes of silence, tilting his head to look at her.

Jerking her head up to look at him like he was absolutely nuts, Iza let out a laugh and took hold of the front of his jacket to pull him down for a kiss, doing her best not to get carried away.

“Does that answer your question?” Watching the way his eyes followed the motion of her tongue as she absently licked the taste of him off her bottom lip, Iza giggled when he half crushed her against his side with a low growl and picked the pace up a fraction.

“You’re a _brat_ ,” he spotted a bright neon sign advertising just the thing they were looking for and steered her towards it, weaving in and out of the foot traffic almost blindly. Once inside, it was Iza that broke away and went to the counter to speak to the Twi’lek man working behind it.

“Whaddaya want, babe?” He gave her a greasy smile and raised an eyebrow, looking her over.

“How much per hour?”

“Fifty credits an hour.”

Iza stared at him hard for a few moments before muttering something about _robbery_ and going to get her chip card from where she’d stashed it in a pouch hanging from her belt.

“Jedi?” The man asked, pointing at the lightsaber peeking out from under her robe.

Pausing, she looked up and hesitated before nodding slowly.

“Twenty five.”

That was a little more reasonable.

“Three hours.” Handing over the card, she silently hoped the deduction wouldn’t show up on the banking records. “Do you get a lot of Jedi in here?”

“A few,” shrugging as he scanned the chip card and waited for it to go through, the man looked her over again and smirked. “Not many females, though.”

“What’s your policy on take-out delivery?” Coming to stand beside Iza, Catcher leaned on her a little and raised an eyebrow, causing the man to give him a wide-eyed look. Of course he hadn’t been expecting a _Clone_ to show up with a Jedi. Catcher knew well enough that some of his brothers often came to places like this, but it usually wasn’t with someone they had intentions of seeing ever again.

“You get a call when it arrives and you pay the tip. I don’t tip.” Holding a datapad out to Iza, he pointed to the bottom of the screen. “I need your fingerprint and signature.”

“Fingerprint?”

“It’s for my record. Not going to show up anywhere else. Your secret is safe, Jedi.” Smirking, he added, “You may even put a fake name, if you like.”

Hesitating, Iza sighed and pushed her finger against the screen before signing some dumb name she’d thought of off the top of her head. Waiting while he checked to make sure she’d done it correctly, she started to twist a piece of hair around her finger and just when she began to tug, Catcher stopped her.

“Okay Miss Jedi,” handing her chip card back, the man smiled again and held out a passcard. “Upstairs, number thirty four. Don’t make a mess of my room.”

Thanking him, Iza linked her arm with Catcher’s and headed up the stairs. Once they’d reached the landing, she shot him a look and darted down the hallway with a snicker, finding their room and getting the door open just as he caught up to her. Letting out a loud squeal when he grabbed her around the waist, Iza brought her hands up to cup the sides of his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss. She was more than happy to let him slip the heavy robe she wore off of her shoulders and blindly toss it somewhere in the room, gasping softly when she was backed up against a wall.

“ _Stars,_ Catcher,” his hands felt _hot_ through the material of her dress as they moved along her sides, and she found herself wishing he’d _maybe_ move them a little higher. “What are you doing?”

“I can stop,” his kisses were not gentle in the slightest, but that was fine with her.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ ,” pulling him closer by the front of his jacket Iza huffed and unclipped the lightsaber from her belt to toss it onto a chair, earning a laugh from him. She looked up and raised an eyebrow, “What’s so funny?”

“You,” long fingers trailed all the way up the sides of her neck and slid deep into her thick hair, a slow smile creeping across his lips as he started rubbing at her scalp the way he would if she had one of her migraines. Leaning in, he planted another absurdly soft kiss to her lips, deepening it with a slow sweep of his tongue along the inside of her mouth. Iza squirmed in her spot against the wall, letting out a sound he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her make before. The slow scratch of her nails against the front of his jacket was the only warning he had before her fingers caught the front of his belt and pulled him in closer. “ _Shit,_ sweetheart,”

“I can’t help it,” she couldn’t fucking _breathe_ , either. Each kiss seemed to smother her in the best of ways, leaving her lightheaded and feeling like she might lose consciousness at any moment. “Catch,”

“What is it, Little Bit?” His teeth grazed her chin and moved down to her neck, making her knees weak enough that she had to bring an arm up to hold onto his shoulder. “What do you need?”

“That’s a stupid question.” Tilting her head for him, she gasped at the first sharp bite, pushing up onto her toes and pulling at the collar of his jacket. “I can’t keep standing like this. I need to sit. I need to _sit_.”

Catcher did little more than growl in response, dropping his hands from her hair as he bent at the knee to cup the backs of her thighs and lift her up. Pulling back long enough to figure out where the hell the bed was in the room, he carried her over and set her down, moving to help get her boots off. Iza was almost too impatient for this; she understood that it’d be easier to get them off _now_ instead of dealing with it later, but _man_ —her mind had become focused on one thing and keeping her shoes off the bed was not it. She almost growled at him when he took the time to get his boots off as well, the sound getting caught in her throat and pulling his attention. Eyeing her a moment, he smirked and shook his head while making quick work of the laces. Once they were off and tossed to the side, he leaned in again and threaded his fingers back into her hair, giving it a little tug to get her to tilt her head again so he could go back to dragging his teeth over her neck.

Iza didn’t object. Blind fingers found the front of his jacket and started fumbling with the buttons, getting them undone as quickly as possible without tearing any of them off. She had to whine at him to get his attention so he’d stop long enough to shrug out of it and she pouted when she realized he had that damn undersuit on beneath the stupid thing.

“You live to torment me,” she accused him, plucking at the front of the black material.

“Excuse me?” Laughing quietly, he looked her over and raised an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”

“You enjoy those shapeless robes?” Tilting her head, she couldn’t keep from smirking.

“Sweetheart, I just enjoy _you_.”

Okay. She’d take that. Stealing a kiss that was neither soft nor careful, Iza backed up on the bed a little and grinned against his lips when Catcher half-growled and followed her.

“Where are you going?” He asked, eyes blazing as he watched her settle back on the mattress. _Oh, Maker_. She was playing with some serious fire. He had all the control in the universe when it came down to it, but he was hardly able to stand himself when she gave him that sweet little look of hers and opened her arms to him.

“ _Catcher_ ,” his name was a rough purr on her lips and he knew he had _sucker_ written all over his damn forehead as he crawled over her and carefully settled down with a low groan. Luring him into another round of slow, decidedly sloppy kisses, Iza slid her hands up along his shoulders and into his hair, waiting a few minutes before she planted a foot on the bed for leverage and tentatively raised her hips up into his.

“ _Don’t,_ ” he didn’t sound like he hated it, but his voice was extremely strained. Picking his head up to look at her as he tried to catch his breath he tutted and lightly kissed her bottom lip. “That’s not a wise thing to do, Little Bit.”

“Why not?” Dragging those wicked nails of hers over his scalp, she frowned.

“I can think about fifty different reasons _why not_ ,” swallowing hard he bit down on his tongue and tried really hard not to shift around above her, lest he give her the wrong idea. “The main one is that it’s… dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Her brows knit together and she had to laugh. “How is it dangerous, Catcher?”

“If you think you feel needy now, it’s going to make it worse,” that didn’t seem to stop him from tracing his fingers over the bare skin peeking out from beneath the neckline of her dress. “Much worse.”

“How much worse can it _get?_ ” Iza pouted up at him and poked her bottom lip out. She could tell quite clearly that he was struggling too. And wasn’t that what they’d come here for? They didn’t necessarily have to get all the way out of their clothes, but _Force_ —she felt like she was going to go feral if they didn’t at least _explore_ a little bit.

He laughed quietly at the question, kissing a soft line down her jaw and hissing when she tightened her fingers in his hair and cussed at him in a rather vulgar manner.

“ _Iza_ ,” flicking his gaze back up to hers, he licked his lips and propped himself up on an arm to try and properly address the situation. “I’m not exactly _prepared_ in case things get out of hand.”

“There was a dispenser in the hall. I saw it when we passed. I’ll go out and get something right now if you’re worried about it.”

“ _Are you serious…?_ ” he really shouldn’t have asked. He knew she was serious. The thigh she’d started shifting against him was certainly serious enough. Letting out a light grunt when she patted his chest to get him to move, Catcher slowly rolled off and watched her scoot to the end of the bed to stand on shaky legs. He had to hide his smirk behind a hand when she turned to look back at him, raising an eyebrow at her. “Need help?”

“No,” she knew what to get. Going for the chip card she’d left near the door with the passcard, Iza breezed out of the room and walked briskly to the dispensers hung up just down the hall. Looking up to try and figure out _which_ to get—while also trying to wrap her head around why there were _Jogan_ _flavored_ ones available—she reached up to scan the card and stopped when a hand bumped hers as it went for the same machine.

“Sorry—”

Looking over and then _up_ , Iza felt the worst chill run down her back when her eyes leveled with those belonging to Master Skywalker. He looked equally horrified to see her standing beside him and for a devastatingly long moment, they just stared at each other. _Kriff. Shit. **FUCK**._

“Anakin?” a soft voice called somewhere down the hall, strangely familiar but Iza couldn’t quite place it, “Is everything okay?”

“Machine’s broken.” The younger Jedi seemed intent on keeping Iza from seeing whoever it was that was in his room, but she was honestly more preoccupied with praying to the Maker that Catcher would stay put.

“There’s another one downstairs. Just use that one.” His mystery guest called back with a laugh.

“Right. Be there in a minute.” When the sound of a door sliding shut followed, Anakin still looked absolutely terrified standing next to Iza. But he didn’t say anything, just scanned his chip card and tapped the button for what he wanted, taking the packet that fell out. “You saw nothing, you heard nothing— _you know nothing_.”

“Same goes for you,” shooting a look at him from the corner of her eye as she followed his example, she got a curt nod out of him and they both turned at the same time to head to their respective rooms.

“Are you okay?” Catcher asked when Iza came back looking spooked. She clutched the little packet in her hand and had a haunted look on her face like she’d seen something she shouldn’t have. In a place like this, he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. “Little Bit?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” shaking off the shock of having been caught—never mind that Master Skywalker was here as well, clearly with a _secret lover_ —she set her chip card and the pass aside before coming over to the bed. “Are these okay?”

“I’m sure those will be fine,” Catcher was a bit unnerved by the look on her face. Taking the packet, he set it aside and pulled her onto the bed and into his lap. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“ _Yep_.” She didn’t want to think about this anymore. Turning to look at him, Iza leaned in and stole a rough kiss that surprised him. Twisting in his lap to face him, she pressed her chest flush against his and grumbled when she had to pause and tug her skirt around to make it easier to move. Catcher seemed content to let her get situated, returning the brief kisses he was given and chuckling quietly at her frustrations with her clothes.

“Here,” gathering the stupidly long mess of material in both hands, he gave a good tug to pull it up from where it was tucked beneath her legs and motioned for her to settle herself where she wanted to be—exhaling rather harshly when she did—before dropping it. “Better?”

Nodding, Iza curled her fingers around the back of his head, leaning in to rest her forehead to his and lightly nuzzle her nose across Catcher’s. Her lips hovered over his and she seemed to hold her breath as she lifted herself in his lap just a fraction and pressed her hips forward. They both let out a heavy rush of air at around the same moment, and a soft growl left Catcher’s throat when Iza moved on him again. Running a hand under the younger woman’s skirt, he couldn’t keep from grasping at her thigh when she put a little more weight on him with the next experimental roll of her hips.

“Too heavy?” she asked, silently hoping he wouldn’t ask her to move.

“ _Hell no_ ,” his voice was rough and the biting kiss he stole from her made her lips tingle. The hand beneath her skirt skimmed higher to her hip, pulling her in closer as he slowly rocked his up from the bed. “ _Sweet Maker_ , Little Bit,”

“Catch,” dropping her head, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, scratching her nails down the back of it, knees squeezing his sides tight. _Damn. Damn. **Damn**._ He’d been right and she’d been a fool to think otherwise. This was a dangerous game they were playing with each other. Right around the time he’d started taking control and showing her how she ought to move against him, Iza knew they were done for. Never mind that they were both a little clumsy and she could tell he was straining to keep some semblance of control over himself, she wanted _out_ of this stupid dress and wanted him out of that stupid outfit.

“We gotta slow down,” his voice was a harsh whisper in her ear and she could tell that he was struggling to even say the words. “Little Bit—you’re killing me.”

Whining at the idea of having to stop now, the brunette began pressing tiny kisses against his neck and closed her teeth over the silver hoop dangling from his ear. Tugging lightly, she felt the rumble of his groan against her chest and moved to take the lobe between her lips instead.

“Do we have to?” her question was innocent enough, though the tone she used was anything _but_.

“You—” holding tight to her hips, Catcher rolled her onto her back and hovered over her, arms coming up to bracket the sides of her head as he tried to steady his breathing. “—are _wretched_.”

Beneath him Iza whined again and wiggled in protest. He hadn’t set any of his weight back on her and she was _not_ okay with that. He tried to silence her with a soft kiss, only to be met with a sharp nip to his bottom lip and a greedy tug to the front of his undersuit.

“This is why I hesitated,” he was smiling as he shook his head at her, “Look at what it’s done to you.”

“Your fault,” she pouted, trailing her fingers over his chest.

“Oh— _I’m aware_.”

“Don’t you want to?” She didn’t have to ask that. The evidence that he _wanted to_ was very clearly outlined by his snug-fitting trousers.

“Is that a real question?”

“ _Catcher_ ,” she wiggled again, making him hiss and bring himself up on his knees so he was properly hovering over her and so she wouldn’t be able to pull some sneaky shit like that again. “This is torture. You’re torturing me.”

“I’m torturing _you?_ ” He gave a loud laugh and ran a hand through his hair, shooting her a very pointed look. “You know I’m in the same boat, right? We’re taking the same ride here?”

“Are we?” Maybe pouting wasn’t the right way to get what she wanted but it was effective.

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” he gently took hold of her jaw and leaned in to kiss her. “You need to understand that I… _have not done this before_. I don’t exactly trust my stamina right now.”

“I’ve never done it either,” shrugging at him, Iza honestly had no idea what the hell it had to do with anything. She knew enough about sex to know how it worked and what to do. She knew most of what to expect thanks to word-of-mouth from some of the older female Jedi at the Temple, but none of them had said anything about how she felt now. “How difficult can it be?”

“Oh, Little Bit,” he looked amused as he started pressing featherlight kisses over her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose. “You’ve got no idea, do you?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” she tugged at his undersuit again. “ _You_ don’t know either.”

“I know myself well enough to know that if I keep letting you rub up on me like that, we’re not even going to get to the fun part.”

 _Okay_. That was fair. It didn’t make it any easier to tolerate the ache between her thighs, but she supposed it wasn’t meant to.

“Don’t look so put out,” Shifting to settle beside her, Catcher pulled her into his arms. His lips were trailing down her neck again, fingers tugging aside the material of her dress so he could kiss his way along her shoulder. “I just need a few minutes to cool off, all right?”

She nodded at him, relaxing a little as she lifted a hand to run her fingers into his hair. Tilting her head for him, Iza shut her eyes against a particularly sharp graze of his teeth and tried not to squirm too much when he picked a spot on her neck to mark. She was pretty sure that leaving hickies was a _bad_ idea, but she was also pretty sure that she didn’t really _care_ at the moment, either. He seemed more interested in seeing what sort of noises he could get her to make than whether or not marking up her skin was a smart move, anyway. This became apparent when he dropped a hand to where the material of her dress had bunched up across her thighs and started tracing curious fingertips along the inside of one.

Iza’s shocked gasp was sharp—as was the tug to his hair that followed—and she wasn’t sure whether to part her knees further or close them. The higher his fingers swept, the harder her breathing started to get. Her free hand curled tight in the blankets beneath them and when he tentatively cupped the heat between her thighs, Iza whimpered and turned her head to find him _staring_ with those pretty eyes of his.

“Catch…”

“Is this okay?” He sounded like he was on a steady diet of gravel and glass but couldn’t be bothered to clear his throat. Watching her carefully as she nodded, he accepted the almost frantic kiss she gave him and tried not to growl too much when she reached up and grabbed the front of his undersuit to pull him in closer. Resting his forehead to hers, he pressed his fingers against the material of her underwear and rubbed in slow passes.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the curse left her lips before she could stop it, followed by a whimper and another hard tug to his undersuit. “ _Catcher_ ,”

He didn’t respond verbally, only kissed her again and put a little more pressure behind the passes of his fingers. He had a vague idea of what he was doing, having listened to enough stories from his brothers who’d been fortunate enough to go out and get the experience firsthand. _She_ seemed to enjoy it, and that was enough for him. Feeling a bit daring, he paused just long enough to tuck his hand down the front of her panties—halting when she tensed and closed her thighs against his hand.

“Iza?” He’d stop if she asked him to; the uncertainty in her eyes made it hard to tell what her decision might be.

“I…” she couldn’t think straight. She ached in the most amazing way, but she also felt rather self-conscious about what his touch was doing to her. Shutting her eyes, she covered her face with her hands and cussed quietly into her palms. “I don’t know.”

“I can stop if you’re uncomfortable,”

“I’m _not_ uncomfortable,” no, she was embarrassed. That’s what it was. She was feeling shy and embarrassed and—

“I think you might be, sweetheart,” carefully untucking his hand, Catcher nuzzled at her hair and kissed her ear. “It’s okay. It’s perfectly okay, Little Bit.”

“But I _want_ you to,” dropping her hands to look at him again, Iza bit down hard on her bottom lip and slowly started gathering up her skirt over her thighs. Her cheeks had darkened to scarlet, but she never broke eye contact. “It’s… not like… I’ve never… done it myself before.”

He blew out a flabbergasted breath and hoped his face hadn’t turned the same shade of red as hers.

“Excuse me?”

“Because _you_ haven’t?!”

“I never said that!”

“ _Catcher_ ,” leaning over, she trapped his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged, whining needily. “Are we really gonna argue right _now?_ ”

Groaning half into her mouth, he shrugged and skimmed his fingers over her belly before slipping them beneath her panties again, smiling against her lips.

“Guess not,” he started slow again, just barely grazing the tips of his fingers against the slick flesh between her thighs while she gasped and squirmed under the touch. Surprised when she covered the back of his hand with hers, Catcher smirked faintly and raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Like this,” she didn’t have a _problem_ with what he was doing; he had the right idea, just not the right _spot_. Still biting down on her bottom lip, she guided his fingers a little higher until the pads brushed over her clit and made her whole body shiver. “Be _gentle_ ,”

Nodding, he was more than happy to take over and move his fingers in slow circles, watching the way she shut her eyes and blindly reached out for the bedding again. _Maker_ , he couldn’t look away. She was breathing in heavy puffs and mewling for him already, her lush little body unable to keep still for even a second. He tried to distract himself by kissing her neck and giving playful tugs to her ear with his teeth, but he found he couldn’t keep from watching her fall apart for very long. When she’d started twitching her hips away from the direct touch, he hummed quietly and reached a bit further to press a single finger inside.

“ _OH—!_ ” Iza picked her head up and stared at him, once again looking unsure of the move he’d made. But before he could even ask, she was wrapping her fingers around the back of his head and pulling him in for a rough kiss. Her legs didn’t want to keep still as her heels dragged across the surface of the bed and she moaned heavily into his mouth, nails scratching hard at the back of his neck. She hadn’t meant to be so damn rough about it, but _Force_ , he had to know what that was doing to her. Running her hands to his chest, she tugged at him and whined, wanting him on top of her again but not willing to pull away long enough to verbalize it.

He seemed to understand well enough anyway. Carefully, the Clone slipped a leg over hers and braced his free hand on the bed to keep himself steady. He let out a soft growl of approval when one of the brunette’s hands moved lower and settled on the rather uncomfortable erection at the front of his trousers, pulling back to gaze at her and try and catch his breath.

“ _Gentle_ ,” he warned when she pressed her palm against him. Grinning as she obliged and gave careful passes of her hand, he added a second finger while rubbing his thumb in lazy swirls over her clit. “You’re gonna need to get out of this dress.”

“Only if you get out of that awful thing,” she could hardly breathe enough to speak clearly; she had no idea how the hell she was expected to just _stop_ what they were doing and get undressed. Her body burned hotter than it ever had when she satisfied herself and she could feel a familiar pressure beginning to build low in her belly. For a man who didn’t have a damn clue what he was doing—he did it ridiculously _well_. “Catcher…”

“What is it?” Leaning over her, he dipped his head to steal soft kisses and dared to press his fingers deeper. Watching her come apart like this was sending him on a damn power trip and he wanted _more_. “What’s got you saying my name like that, sweetheart?”

“I’m…” she could feel her face get hot as she started to say it and it didn’t help when he stared down into her eyes like he was silently demanding she finish what she was saying. _Maker_ , did he know how he looked to her right now? It was that same hot, dominant look he’d given her when he’d lectured her about stepping her shit up in front of her squad. Pressing her lips together tightly, she squirmed under him and dug her heels into the bed to push her hips up into his hand, watching a brow go up high on his forehead.

The smile that spread across his face was made of absolute _filth_. Iza wondered for a moment what could be running through his head to make him smile like that, and gave a loud shout when he withdrew his hand from between her thighs.

“ ** _Catcher!_** ”

“Shh,” kissing the end of her nose, he winked and popped his fingers into his mouth for a brief moment before rolling off the bed.

“Are you _serious?_ ” she was going to pull her damn hair out by the handful. “Cat—”

“Take it off,” he pointed to the dress she had on as he stripped down as quickly as he could. “The faster you get it done, the faster we’ll get back to it.”

 _Yes sir_.

The dress was easy to remove, although she got tangled in the material when she tried to simply toss it aside and deal with her undergarments. An amused chuckle sounded behind her and she drew in a sharp breath when Catcher’s warm, _bare_ chest pressed up against her back and his nimble fingers unwound the fabric from her limbs.

“Maybe I should have done it for you,” he teased, brushing the hair away from her shoulder to nip at it affectionately.

“You said to do it quick,” dropping her head back Iza whined as Catcher smoothed his hands up her torso to give her breasts a squeeze.

“I did,” he nodded and ran curious fingertips around her nipples, humming in thought when she wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “Too much?”

“ _No_ ,”

“Not enough?”

“ _No._ ”

“You need to be specific, Little Bit,” okay, _maybe_ he’d let the power trip go to his head. But she responded so nicely to the firmer tone of voice and being bossed around that he couldn’t help himself. He had a feeling, however, that she was starting to get a little annoyed when she grumbled at him and shifted so his erection pressed into her lower back.

“ _That_ ,” she huffed, giving him a sour sort of look. “You’re tormenting me, Catcher,”

That filthy smile of his was back, if just a little tamer than before, and he leaned in to kiss her and carefully roll her underneath him again. He took his time planting kisses all along her jaw and neck while running his hands over her thighs, urging her to part them enough for him to settle his hips in between. He hesitated for a moment as he was lining himself up, keeping his eyes on her face to gauge her reaction.

“You tell me if—”

“I swear to the Maker, if you keep stalling—”

“ _Okay_ ,” he had to laugh and shake his head at her. _Bossy_. He supposed he understood. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been waiting for this since they’d gotten up here, too. Leaning over her, he pressed his hips forward slowly, pausing when she inhaled sharply and grabbed his arms. Waiting for some sort of sign that it was okay to continue, he budged forward little by little until their hips met and he had to rest his forehead against her shoulder. _Mother of the Maker_. Okay—he definitely needed a minute even if she didn’t. Sucking a sharp breath through his teeth when she nudged her hips against him, he clenched the handful of bedding his palm was braced on and shook his head. “Wait a minute, sweetheart.”

Iza wanted to complain, but she wouldn’t. She had to remember that the experience was new to _him_ too. It wouldn’t be fair if she made him move when he wasn’t ready. Lifting her hands, she cupped the sides of his face and brought him in for a tender kiss. Her fingers slowly dragged through his hair and she sighed softly into his mouth when he let his tongue slide across hers. This was good. She was absolutely content with this. And when he finally drew his hips back and clumsily moved them forward again, she was _perfectly_ fine with that too. It took a few tries for the two of them to find a rhythm that worked and they both ended up snickering at each other through the apologies when someone stuttered or didn’t quite meet the other in time, but the snickers gave way to soft groans and eventually heavier breathing that drowned out the sounds of the Galactic City traffic outside.

“Iza,” he was having a hard time keeping a grip on his control despite how slow and careful they were being and Catcher had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Sweetheart—”

“If you stop, I’ll never forgive you,” her nails pricked his lower back, keeping him close and daring him to try and pull back. “I’m _so close_ , Catch. Don’t do it to me again.”

 _Damn_. Okay.

“I won’t,” he promised, resting his forehead to hers. Her satisfied little smile made his belly burn and he couldn’t help himself as he stepped up the pace of his thrusts, reveling in the way she moaned and lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. Still keeping one hand braced against the bed, the other held tight to a hip and occasionally traveled upward to palm her breast. He’d gotten bolder the longer this went on and eventually dipped his head to wrap his lips around one of the tempting little tips, perhaps sucking a bit too roughly although Iza didn’t seem to mind. She cried out to him more than once, digging her heels into his ass and squeezing her thighs tight against his hips as she started begging for release. It spurred him on even more and Catcher straightened enough to grasp both hips in his hands, deep grunts rumbling in his throat with each hard roll of his hips into her.

Iza felt like she was losing her damn mind. The edges of her vision were so hazy and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs before he was forcing it out of her with the heavy crash of his hips into hers. It was a kind of hot, intense pleasure that bordered on being painful but she wasn’t sure she hated it. Besides, the way his brown eyes seemed to glow in the city lights pouring in from outside as he watched her come apart was well worth a little bit of discomfort. The tightness that had been building low in her belly for so long now was getting worse and worse until he leaned over her again and buried a hand in her hair, grinding his hips in a graceless manner that rubbed him up against her _just the right way_. Her hands shot out to grab the bed, back arching as his name escaped as a harsh whimper and her legs clamped around him so tight that they trembled. His mouth was hot and wet when it met her neck, teeth unforgiving and his voice so damn rough she hardly recognized it.

“That’s it sweetheart,” _fuck_ , he couldn’t take it. The pressure building at the base of his spine was too intense and watching her come had made him damn near feral. He’d given up on being even the tiniest bit careful with his movements, thrusting into her hard enough to elicit a shocked cry and earn a bite to his shoulder. As his release began to unfurl low in his pelvis, Catcher covered her with his body again, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her to his chest possessively as he worked himself into her. His feet dug into the bed, toes slipping across the surface of the blanket when he stilled suddenly and buried his face in her neck to muffle the heavy sound that left his throat. He stayed that way for almost a solid minute, panting and trembling as he tried to resist the temptation to drop all of his body weight on top of her. The soft brush of her fingers through his sweat soaked hair brought him back to the present and he carefully unwound his arms and tried to gather enough wit to pull out and settle beside her.

“I love you,” her sweet voice pulled his attention and he turned heavy-lidded eyes in her direction to find Iza looking just as lost in bliss as he was. Her lips were blurred from all of their vicious kissing and her skin was flushed pink, damp from sweat and spittle where his teeth had marked her. Green eyes gazed at him adoringly as he finally managed to lie down and he smiled at her when her fingers brushed the scar on his chin. Taking hold of her hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them gently before opening his arms to her. The brunette wasted no time snuggling into his chest, pressing burning little kisses to his neck while he hummed in contentment.

“I love you too, Little Bit,” he slurred, bowing to bury his face in her hair. Reaching behind her, he tugged a corner of the bedspread out of place and did a half-assed job of covering them so they could bask without freezing. He was close to passing out when his eyes scanned the room and fell on the table beside the bed. Specifically, the unopened packet that sat framed in a beam of neon light oozing in from the window. He tried not to let dread fill his gut, shutting his eyes tight against the sight to block it out and tightening his arms around Iza instead. Now wasn’t the time to address this. He wasn’t going to ruin the mood for either of them.

They could deal with it later.


	5. Beneath All the Pleasure, All You Are is Pain

“ _FUCK!_ ”

Iza’s panicked shout had Catcher flying up from the bed, groggy as hell as he looked around to try and figure out where the danger was. Sunlight poured in from the windows and the sounds of the city were louder than ever but he could only focus on the woman frantically trying to gather her clothes from the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he absently wondered what time it was and looked around for a clock. Spotting the unopened packet of condoms from the night before, he almost groaned out loud and made a mental note to say something about it later.

“It’s _nine_ , Catcher.” She looked like she was having a hard time standing and there was a devious part of Catcher that was quite proud of that. “I’m gonna die. Master Windu is gonna kill me. I was supposed to instruct a group of younglings this morning.”

Yeah, Captain Rex was going to skin him alive too. He’d missed check-in last night _and_ this morning; this wasn’t going to look good for either of them. Blowing out a harsh breath, the Clone scooted to the edge of the bed and groaned miserably as he got to his feet. His shoulders stung like hell from where Iza had scratched him and he was pretty sure his hips were bruised. _She_ wasn’t in great shape for sure. He’d marked her shoulders and her breasts and there were odd looking bruises all along the outsides of her thighs. Maybe he’d been a little rougher with her than he’d thought.

“Oh _Force_ ,” dropping her head back with a stomp of her foot and another vulgar cuss word—he needed to start watching his mouth around her—she looked at him like she might start crying. “The _bill_.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Clones didn’t get a ton of spending money, but Catcher could probably cover the expenses. He hoped they’d still charge the Jedi rate and not that abysmal price they’d been quoted the first time. “Slow down, sweetheart. You’re going to make yourself pass out.”

Iza looked like she wanted to say something cheeky in response but only wrapped two fingers around a lock of tangled hair and started to pull.

“ _No_ ,” Catcher’s hand was gentle when it took hold of her wrist to stop her, cupping her panicked face and rubbing his thumbs along her jaw in an attempt to soothe her. “Look at me, Little Bit. Focus on me.”

The expression on her face was almost pained, but the brunette did as she was told. She also pouted at him like a five-year-old, but that part couldn’t be helped. She was terrified that they’d get back to where they were supposed to be and they’d both be reprimanded for disappearing. Catcher stood to lose a _lot_ more than she did; if she was cast out, then she could still live her life. If _he_ was discharged, he was considered useless and _useless_ Clones were exterminated. She couldn’t help but panic.

“You’re not focusing,” he slid his hands back further into her hair, bringing his thumbs to her temples instead. “Is that better?”

“A little,” honestly, she didn’t know if it helped or not. It made her feel better to have him _try_ to calm her down, but her heart was still pounding hard in her chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assured her, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “You’re a good girl, Iza. And you’re a _Jedi Knight_. Last I checked, that meant you were free to do as you wished as long as you don’t neglect your duties.”

“What about _you?_ ” Screw what might happen to her. She’d probably be sent to some shitty backwater planet for another relief mission as punishment, but the awful feeling of worry that Catcher wouldn’t escape true punishment just wouldn’t go away.

“Do you _really_ think I’m going to get in trouble for being off-base?” He’d likely get snapped at for being irresponsible with his time and for not doing check-in, but they were so short on men that he doubted he’d be court martialed for it.

“I don’t _know!_ I don’t know how any of that Trooper shit works, Catch. I only know the bad things I’ve been told, the things Master Windu told me to keep me from going back to the base.”

This made him raise an eyebrow. He’d had a feeling that she’d been fed these things to scare her and that upset him. Master Windu was supposed to be a _peaceful_ man and in most cases, he seemed to be. But he also knew he could be a hardass and there were times when even Iza questioned his intentions. Sighing quietly, Catcher brushed the hair away from the young Jedi’s face and kissed her forehead again.

“Let’s get dressed and we’ll go back, okay?” He murmured into her hair, getting a nod in return. Smiling, he thumbed her chin and hummed, “That’s my girl,”

Taking a deep breath to try and drain away the rest of the nervous feeling in her gut, Iza started to pull her clothes back on, wincing when her muscles ached and the material of her clothes brushed over the bruises on her skin. _Man_ , he’d gone absolutely nuts on her last night. She wouldn’t say she was complaining, but she was going to have to stop by the Medcenter at the Temple for a bacta patch to heal some of these marks before anyone saw them. She’d been in the middle of looking for her lightsaber when she saw the packet of condoms they’d neglected to use the night before still sitting beside the bed. All of the air rushed out of her at once and she sat down hard on the nearest chair, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as something cold trickled down her back.

“Iza?” Catcher sounded concerned and certainly looked it when she glanced up to find him buckling his belt.

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head and spotted her lightsaber across the room, holding a hand out to pull it to her with the Force. Her fingers trembled as she clipped it to her belt, making it rattle against the buckle and making the Clone look over again.

“Little Bit,” he knit his brows together, coming over to nudge her chin up so she would look at him. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

Throwing a hand out to gesture at the packet, she brushed him off and bent to pick her robe up off of the floor.

“I thought I couldn’t feel any more fucked than I already do,” her voice was tight, like she might start crying at any second. “Now I have to go to the Medcenter and ask… they’re going to _know_.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not going to be the first Jedi to ask for something like that,” _well_ , it was true, right? “That’s why they keep it there.”

“I’m the only one anyone suspects of having a _relationship_.” She wouldn’t look at him as she folded her arms over her chest and glared at the wall. “Someone’s going to tell Windu.”

“So… lie to them.” He didn’t like saying it, but if that was what would get them out of trouble then he was prepared to do exactly that. “Tell them you met someone in the nightclub. What business is it of theirs, anyway?”

“I’m your _General_ , Catcher.” Oh, _right_. “They’ll take you away from me and likely remove me from handling a squad altogether.”

“Lie.” He was going to drill that idea into her until she accepted it. “Sweetheart, we’ve had to do it for this long, we might as well keep going.”

Maybe she didn’t want to do that anymore. Maybe Iza was _tired_ of lying about how she felt about him. Last night had been so _amazing_ and fun. It almost made her smile to think of how they’d been unable to get enough of each other, how they’d fumbled and laughed with one another, and how they eventually managed to get it so damn _right_ that just thinking of it sent delicious shivers up her spine. It didn’t seem fair to have to keep covering it up. But—she was a _Jedi_. She had to keep her loyalty to the Order, even if it meant faking it a little bit. _Force_ , it made her wish she’d never been born a Sensitive; she just wanted a normal life for once.

“Iza,” Catcher’s arms went around her and pulled her against his chest where she nuzzled her face into his shoulder, annoyed by that damn undersuit. “It’s going to be fine.” Turning his head, he kissed her temple and smiled against her skin. “I love you. Just remember that.”

She broke a little when he said it, letting out a tiny choked sound that she hoped was muffled enough that he wouldn’t hear it.

No such luck.

Strong hands cupped the back of her head as he leaned back and started dropping kisses to her cheeks, kissing away the dampness there before he affectionately nuzzled his nose across hers.

“Hey,” he tried to get her to look at him but wasn’t going to force her if she truly didn’t want to. “Talk to me, Little Bit,”

“I want to run,” she confessed, bringing her eyes up to meet his. “I just want to _run_ , Catcher. I want to be able to just… _love you_ without having to hide it.”

“You don’t know how much I’d love that,” he had a feeling she _did_ , “But sweetheart, you worked so hard for this. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I let you turn away from it for me.”

“I would go before the council in person and renounce my position as a Jedi for you if it meant we could live normally.”

“You don’t mean that,” Catcher _hated_ himself for saying it because he knew damn well that she meant every last word. But for as long as he’d known her, Iza Tacor had been working her ass off to pass those damn Trials. She’d put herself through so much stress and had _finally_ earned it; he couldn’t let her throw that away for him. Not for _him_. “Your dedication to the Order is strong, Iza. I know you, remember?”

Iza’s face fell and she pulled back from him, turning to grab her chip card and the room’s passcard from where she’d left it the night before. How could he say something like that? If he truly knew her, then he’d _know_ that she’d do anything for him. She’d told him many times before that she wanted to run away for him; this wasn’t something that had changed overnight just because they’d had sex. Reaching for the door panel, Iza jerked when Catcher took hold of her arm, looking up at him with a hard frown before she pushed her hands against his chest and screwed her face up.

“You’re so fucking _mean!_ ” Tears blurred her vision and strangled her. “There is _nothing_ I wouldn’t do for you. _Nothing_ , Catcher! How can you… how _dare_ you assume my loyalty to the Order outweighs my loyalty to you?!”

“It _should_ , Iza,” he hated himself. He honestly and truly hated himself in that moment. “This is what you were born for. It’s in your blood to be a Jedi.”

“It’s in yours to just be a Trooper,” her chest was heaving and she was having a hard time seeing straight. “Am I supposed to assume that your loyalty only lies with the Republic Army?”

Catcher wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He didn’t like the accusation in the slightest and understand that it was meant to sting but _damn_ —that was low.

“Thanks,” her smile was tight and bitter and _angry_. “That feels _fantastic_.”

“Iza,” he took a step forward and she put a hand up to stop him quite literally. It was like there was an invisible wall keeping the two of them apart. “ _Iza!_ ”

“Do you really even love me, Catcher?” he didn’t like the look in her eye; there was an emptiness there that broke his heart. “Or were you just saying it because _I_ did?”

“Of course I fucking love you, Iza!” Catcher couldn’t look more offended. “Would I go through all of this trouble if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, that foul smile still evident on her lips. “Maybe you just put up with it long enough to _fuck_ me.”

“You better stop that,” pointing a finger at her, he tried to take a step forward, growling when that stupid invisible wall stopped him again. “ _Iza_ , let me through!”

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re _wrong_ and you know it.” He didn’t like this. He didn’t like how angry he was getting with her. He couldn’t tell which one of them was purposely trying to hurt the other anymore but he wanted it to _stop_. Biting down on his tongue, he fixed her with a look and let out a heaving breath. “I’m _sorry_ for saying what I did. I just don’t want you losing focus on something you worked so hard for.”

“What part of me telling you I have loyalty to both you _and_ the Order did you not hear?” Iza’s head was getting fuzzy. A burning sort of iciness was starting to throb in the spot just above her left eye and she knew the pain was showing on her face. These damn migraines were such a nuisance. “I know… I know how to _focus_.”

Catcher suddenly wasn’t sure he cared about her focus anymore. The face she was making was more concerning to him.

“What’s wrong?” He felt the pressure on his chest getting lighter until it eventually faded away and he found he could move forward again. Cupping her face in his hands even when she tried to resist, he frowned and stroked her cheek with the pad of a thumb. “Sweetheart,”

Shutting her eyes, she brought her fingers up to the spot that hurt the most and shook her head.

“I’m fine.” Stress. These things were always induced by stress. If the situation at hand wasn’t stressful, she sure as shit didn’t know what was. “It’s just a headache,”

That was all he needed to hear before he was scooping her off of her feet and carrying her to the bed where he sat down with her in his lap. At first, Iza pushed against his chest in protest, still angry from the argument. But when he slid his fingers into her hair and started searching for the pressure points to relieve the pain, she started to cry and pulled herself closer to hide her face in his chest.

“I’ve got you, Little Bit,” Catcher whispered, concentrating as he worked his fingers against the right spots. “I’ve got you.”

It took much longer than normal for the pain to subside and by the time Iza’s head had stopped throbbing, she was exhausted. The idea of having to walk all the way back to the Temple was almost agonizing, but they couldn’t stay here. She didn’t think she had enough credits to pay for more time—she wasn’t going to let Catcher pay the existing bill as it was—and she had a horrible feeling that Master Windu would send someone to look for her if she didn’t show up soon.

“Are you okay?” Catcher’s lips were soft against her forehead, the hand at the back of her neck still massaging lightly at her skin.

“I think so,” she’d never had an attack like that before. The migraines usually just crept up on her when she was doing specific Force exercises. “Thank you,”

“Shhh,” he chuckled quietly and cuddled her closer. “You know you don’t have to thank me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _That_ I will accept.” Leaning back when Iza tilted her head to look at him, the Clone dipped his head and kissed her, lightly touching his forehead to hers with a faint smile. “I’m sorry too, Little Bit,”

“I love you so much, Catch,” brushing her fingers down the side of his face, she wished that her chest didn’t ache as much as it did when she said it. “It scares me sometimes. It _hurts_ being questioned like that.”

“I know sweetheart. I won’t do that again.”

“I won’t use the Force on you like that again either,” it’d been a split second decision, anyway. He’d moved so quickly that it’d startled her and it was the only thing she could think to do. Iza knew that Catcher would never hurt her; her damn reflexes were just too sharp. “That was wrong of me to do.”

“It was weird,” he admitted, wrinkling his nose. “Has anyone ever done that to you? It’s like… pressure, but no reason for it?”

“I’m familiar with it.” Smiling a little, she kissed the scar under his chin and sighed. “We need to go. We can’t spend more time here than we already have.”

Catcher sighed heavily. He knew she was right. If he missed another check-in, he’d be in serious trouble. Maker knew what would happen to _her_ , despite what he’d said about her being a _good girl_. Giving her another soft kiss, he brushed her off of his lap and smirked as he watched her grab the packet from the bedside table. It was definitely a good idea to take those; there was no telling when they might need them next. Picking his jacket up from the floor, he slipped it back on and watched her look around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything before following her out into the hallway and down to the front desk.

“Mornin’,” the Twi’lek grinned at the two and took the passcard when Iza handed it to him, confused when she gave him the chip card as well. “What’s this?”

“We overstayed the three hours,” she muttered, readjusting the dark brown robe she wore. “I was going to pay the rest of the bill.”

“It’s been taken care of.” Shrugging, he handed her the card back.

“What?” Blinking, the brunette fumbled to try and put her card back into the pouch on her belt. “Who…?”

“I don’t ask names. Tall fellow. Jedi, like you.”

 _Anakin_.

“Thank you,” nodding, Iza took hold of Catcher’s arm and guided him out of the hostel, squinting against the brightness of the sun.

“What was that about?” Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, the taller man raised an eyebrow and tried to get her to look at him. “Someone paid the tab?”

“I guess,” she shrugged and turned her hands up.

“Huh.” Falling silent for a moment, Catcher’s lips twisted in an amused smirk and he snickered. “Must’ve been someone in the next room. You _were_ quite loud, Little Bit.”

A look of absolute _horror_ crossed her face and Iza covered her mouth with a hand at the thought that Master Skywalker might’ve been able to hear what was going on in their room. The laugh that boomed out from beside her did nothing to quell that fear, even when Catcher slipped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

“Sweetheart, _it’s okay_ ,” twisting a lock of her hair around his fingers, he grinned when she finally looked up at him. “ _Maker_ , you’re cute. You know that?”

“I thought I was _fucking_ cute?”

“That too.” Leaning down to steal a kiss, he hummed against her lips and sighed when they broke away. “Pity we have to rush. It’d be nice to get something to eat.”

“We can do that,” _hell_ , if they were going to be late, they might as well drag as much ass as possible. “We’ll go to the diner and get something.”

“Are you sure?”

Nodding, she smiled and slipped her hand into his, giving his fingers a tight squeeze.

“I’ll cover for you if Captain Rex gives you a hard time.” Eyeing him, she grinned. “I’ll just say I took you off-base for some… training or something. Lightsaber training.”

“Yes—because telling him _that_ is going to get me out of trouble. We’re not even supposed to touch those things, Iza.”

“You’re not supposed to touch Jedi either. Hasn’t stopped you.”

“ _Brat_ ,” he shook a finger at her. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry much about the Captain, to tell you the truth. He’s… lenient. It’s Commander Cody I’d be cautious of.”

“He’s off with Master Kenobi, I think.” Frowning in thought, Iza tried to remember whether or not she’d seen either man the day before. She was _pretty sure_ Kenobi’s presence in the council room had been holo and not physical. “In any case, I’ll cover for you.”

“I appreciate that,” he wished he could do the same, but that would only cause problems. Master Windu was nowhere near as understanding as Rex.

“Okay,” pulling him towards the diner on the approaching corner, she pointed. “We eat and we leave. No funny business and no more dawdling.”

“ _Yes sir,_ ”

~*~*~*~

So far, Iza had been lucky enough not to run into anyone important after arriving back at the Temple. She’d been able to get to her room and change into her robes without fuss and now she was on her way to the Medcenter to get the shot she needed to take care of last night’s _boo-boo_. She’d found a pack of bacta patches in the drawer next to her bed and slapped one on in the hopes that it might do something about the bruising around her neck and shoulders, but she had a bad feeling she was going to need something topical.

“Jedi Tacor,”

That cold chill from the night before raced up her spine and across her scalp when Master Skywalker’s voice sounded in the hallway and squeezed her eyes shut, cussing under her breath. Turning, she smiled faintly and gave a bow of her head.

“Master Skywalker. Good afternoon.”

He didn’t look to be in the mood for formalities. In fact, he didn’t look to be in the mood for _bullshit_ at all. Grabbing her by the sleeve of her robes, he half dragged her down the hall, past the Medcenter where she needed to go, and around the corner where there wouldn’t be too many people passing during this time of day.

“You owe me,” he snapped, blue eyes looking her over.

“I…” she could see that he’d locked onto the marks on her neck and she shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. “I don’t have my chip card—”

“No,” he shook his head. “My Padawan had to cover for you this morning. I had to come up with an excuse for your absence to Master Windu—who is _looking_ for you, by the way.”

“I’ll go find him. I’m sorry to have put you through the trouble.” She would personally apologize to Ahsoka; the younglings weren’t difficult to handle by any means, but she had more important things to do than give them lessons right now.

“What were you doing at the hostel last night?”

Iza’s head snapped back up to stare at him and she wasn’t sure if he was curious or concerned or just plain nosey.

“What were _you_ doing there last night, Master Skywalker?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He folded his arms, narrowing his eyes.

“And how is _my_ presence there any of _yours?_ ” Iza had a real bad habit of always trying to appear taller to this man and now was no exception. At five-five, it was almost impossible to make herself look taller than most people, but Anakin got under her skin sometimes and it was her way of attempting to assert some sort of dominance. “I believe I’m entitled to _some_ privacy,”

“That’s not a place you should be,” his tone was too-serious, the look in his blue eyes _strangely_ protective. Was he scolding her?

“I’m sorry—you’re aware I’m _older_ than you, right?” What the _hell_ was happening right now? “I’m fully capable of making decisions regarding my body _on my own_. I don’t need—”

“It’s not safe for you. The kind of people that frequent those places—it’s not _safe_.”

 _Okay_ , she needed a minute. For as long as she’d known him, she’d never gotten along with Anakin. They had their moments where they could work together for a common cause, but she’d always seen him more as competition than an ally. And when he’d been knighted at the start of the Clone Wars? It had thrown her into such a fit of jealousy that she’d actually knocked herself down a few pegs in her training. She’d been at this much longer than he had and he’d strolled in off of that sand pit and taken over. He wasn’t even _supposed_ to be here, if the conversations she’d overheard as a youngling were correct. The adults had felt strange things about him; he was _the Chosen One_ —whatever the hell that meant. They’d never gotten along well at all, so this sudden concern for her safety was _weird_ to her.

“I assure you, Master Skywalker,” she spoke carefully so he wouldn’t sense the rage she was suppressing, “The company I kept last night would not have allowed anything to happen.”

“The Clone, correct?”

She knew her face was going red. She didn’t need to see the tiny quirk of his scarred brow for confirmation of that. Clenching her jaw, Iza straightened her back again and pressed her lips together in a thin line.

“What do you _want?_ ” If she didn’t end up being consumed by her anger, she was going to start crying in fear of being tattled on. As it was, it was getting extremely hard to swallow from the tightness in her throat. “If not your credits back, _what do you **want**?_”

Anakin looked genuinely surprised by the reaction he got from his guess. He’d only meant to tease since she seemed so damn chummy with the guy; he hadn’t known there was _something_ there. Making a face like he didn’t quite know what to do with her now that she was on the verge of crying, he sighed and shook his head.

“Just… a favor,”

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t do that in the hallway, hm?” Her tone was so damn bitter. “Wouldn’t want anyone to _see_.”

“Not—” he looked flustered, “Not that kind of favor.”

“Will you just spit it out, Skywalker? I have somewhere I need to be and a real tight time constraint,”

“I have to leave Coruscant tonight,” his blue eyes stayed fixed on her, bordering on concern more than ever. “I was _supposed_ to be Senator Amidala’s escort to a dinner tonight. I would like for you to go in my place.”

“ _Me?_ ”

“You owe me the favor.”

“She doesn’t even _know_ me, Master Skywalker,” Iza had seen the woman in passing and on the holo-screens in the city, but she’d never been fortunate enough to formally meet her. “Is she going to be okay with that?”

“You’re a Jedi Knight, aren’t you?” Anakin shrugged as he gestured at her with careless hands. “You fit the job description. As long as you can stay vigilant and keep her safe, that’s all that matters.”

She was starting to get another headache.

“I… can do that.” She didn’t have any other obligations that she knew of; this probably took precedence over anything anyway.

“Good,” nodding to confirm the plan, Anakin gave her another scrutinizing once over and squinted. “If you’re worried about something, don’t be. What happens outside of the Temple isn’t anyone’s business.”

“Says the man demanding to know why I was at the hostel in the first place.”

“I wanted to make sure you were there of your own accord, Jedi,” his eyes were much kinder when Iza looked up this time, but he also looked a little frustrated. “It’s not common to see females in places like that.”

“We have needs too, Anakin,” she hadn’t meant to drop the formality, but the headache was getting worse and she just didn’t care anymore. “I swear to you that I _wanted_ to be there.”

“Okay,” he seemed satisfied with that answer, heaving a sigh and gesturing to dismiss her. “I’ll have the details for tonight sent to your room. Thank you for this.”

“No problem,” rolling her eyes, she turned to march towards the Medcenter, rubbing at her forehead. Honestly, she really needed to get Catcher to teach her whatever it was he did to her in order to make these damn headaches go away. Or maybe she needed to stop bottling her stress until it made her head want to pop. Heading inside, she went straight to the one medic droid she tended to visit whenever she came in for headache therapy and smiled tightly when she was greeted.

“Jedi Tacor,” it buzzed, waving to a seat. “Having another migraine?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m here,” lowering her voice just in case someone else was nearby, she heaved a sigh and stared at her feet.

“What can I help you with?”

“I need…” _Force_. “An emergency contraceptive shot.”

The droid gave a soft series of beeps that Iza interpreted as concerned humming before it turned away to root through cupboards and drawers. It said nothing as it readied the single-use syringe filled with a bright blue liquid and carefully stuck it straight into her neck. The pain was sharp, but quick and Iza’s eyes watered against the sensation.

“Please consider a monthly contraceptive, Jedi Tacor,” the droid buzzed, almost sounding _disappointed_. “Have a nice day.”

~*~*~*~

“Jedi Tacor,” _Oh no_. “A word, if you don’t mind.”

This was the one she’d been dreading. Iza had been trying so hard to avoid Master Windu that she’d literally gone out of her way to take the halls that she knew he never frequented. Deciding that it was probably best to just suck it up and face him, she focused on letting go of any off-putting emotions he might be able to sense, and looked up from the datapad that had been sent to her room.

“Master Windu,” she offered a smile that he did not return. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“You went missing last night,” he sounded more concerned than upset although she could see something in his eyes that suggested he was less than happy with her. “Skywalker tells me you were helping him with an assignment. Is this true?”

 _Anakin, you genius bastard_.

“Yes sir,” she nodded firmly.

“He also tells me you’ve agreed to take his place as Senator Amidala’s escort this evening,” he tilted his head like he was studying her and Iza suddenly hoped that the marks on her neck had faded enough that they could no longer be seen. “Are you ready for that sort of responsibility?”

Part of her wanted to yell. Mace Windu was a _fantastic_ Jedi Master; very attentive, very intuitive and very willing to work at a pace that was not too back breaking for his apprentice. But he also had a _terrible_ habit of treating her like she was still thirteen years old and Iza hated it. She’d been focus and force trained harder than she’d been combat trained, and he’d almost _refused_ to teach her Form Seven until she’d started mimicking stances and moves she’d seen in old holo-recordings in the library. Even then, it had been a softer form of it and he always made her meditate for hours to bring herself down from the adrenaline rush that followed such a brutal combat form. He only ever brought her along on missions that wouldn’t test her physical skills and she probably never would have seen the battlefield if she hadn’t challenged Anakin the way she’d done. It _bothered_ her that he handled her so carefully, like he was worried the wrong move might make her slip into a place he couldn’t pull her back from.

“All due respect, sir,” setting the datapad aside, she set her hands in her lap and pinched the material of her tabard in between her fingers. If she couldn’t pull her hair, she’d pull at her damn robes. “I have been ready for a lot of things for a long time.”

A brow went up high on her Master’s forehead and she wasn’t sure what to make of the expression that followed.

“Is that what you believe?” he asked, tucking his hands behind his back.

 _No_ , she wouldn’t get frustrated. She wouldn’t let him get to her. She’d had enough of that for one damn day.

“I am not a youngling, Master,” she said firmly, keeping her eyes as level with his as possible. “I have been knighted. The council would not have passed me if they didn’t believe that I’m capable of performing the tasks that are expected of me. _You_ would not have bestowed the responsibility onto me if you didn’t believe—”

“What do _you_ believe, Jedi Tacor?”

“I believe I’m tired of being treated like I’m still a Padawan Learner, Master Windu.” _There_. She’d said it.

“Do you believe your actions as of late would reflect well upon the name of the Jedi? Forcing your way into a position of power instead of earning it? Continuing to disregard my guidance?” He looked so irritatingly patient as he stood there. “I admit you’ve spent a great deal more time at my side than most Padawans would. Perhaps it was my mistake not to give you more solo field training than you received.”

Try as she might to steel herself against the things he was saying, Iza could feel a burning behind her eyes that threatened to cause tears to bubble forth. She was doing all she could to keep her breathing even, but she knew he could see right through her. He was good at that.

“Perhaps it was your mistake in picking me to be your apprentice, Master,” two hot tears fell with a soft _pat_ onto the front of her tabard but Iza refused to scrub away the lines they left behind on her cheeks.

“I believe I made the right choice,” his tone never changed, but he walked further into the room and tilted her head up with a light nudge under her chin.

“Then why are you so disappointed with me? Why do I feel inadequate in your eyes, Master?”

His expression changed then, surprise softening his typically stern features. He seemed to think carefully about what he wanted to say to her before tucking his hand behind his back again.

“It’s never been my intention to make you feel inadequate, Jedi Tacor,” he paused for another long moment, getting lost in his thoughts before he spoke again. “Your spirit is a fragile one. I’m sure you’ve come to notice this by now.”

“What does that _mean?_ ” No. No she hadn’t noticed whatever the hell he was talking about.

“You’ve struggled since the beginning to keep a sense of stability in yourself. It’s one of the reasons I kept you in focus training longer than most Padawans.”

“Sir,” she was going to have to lie down because of this damn headache if it got any worse. “I don’t understand—”

“Your men told me about the incident on the battlefield.” He interjected, fixing her with that piercing stare of his. “How you became violent with your actions.”

“One of my men was _killed_ , sir! I don’t know how I was supposed to react to that!”

“You learned exactly how you were supposed to react to that,” that look was starting to annoy the hell out of her now. “You allow yourself the moment to feel it and you move on. You never lose focus and you _never_ give in to the impulse to react the way you did.”

“He was a living, _breathing_ man! Are we not responsible for them too, sir?” She’d shifted to the edge of her seat, the hands in her lap twisting her tabard hard enough to leave little burns on her fingertips. “It’s what we _do_. We _protect_ others.”

“And sometimes we must allow ourselves to fail, Jedi Tacor,” coming over, he crouched and put his hands over hers long enough to make her stop the incessant twisting. “You cannot allow yourself to be consumed by your emotions, on or off the battlefield. That has always been the hardest lesson for you.”

“Am I not supposed to _feel?_ ” she challenged, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu wash over her. They’d had this conversation before. “Am I supposed to just be cold and cut off like you?”

He let out a single soft laugh then and clicked his tongue. Clearly, that had amused him but also seemed to have hit a nerve. _Good_.

“You consider my placidity to be hard-heartedness?” He rose to his full height again and gave her one of those patient looks of his. “That is _your_ mistake, my young apprentice.”

Iza watched him turn and start to walk out of the room, opening her mouth like she was going to say something only to shut it immediately after. What was she supposed to say to that? Was she supposed to complain and compare how she’d seen other Masters treat their apprentices with much warmer dispositions? It wouldn’t do her much good to try. Master Windu had his methods and his reasons and she knew that. But _damn_ if it didn’t bother her sometimes that he felt like a giant wall of steel when others around her were much more welcoming. Even the Grand Master felt more approachable, and he was far more strict about things than her Master ever was.

“If you have something you would like to say, you’re free to say it,” _Maker_ , she hated how he did that sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage. It was the only thing that felt appropriate. No matter how frustrating he could be, he was still her Master. And Iza knew, deep down, that if his heart was as cold as his disposition then she would’ve never made it this far at all.

A soft _hm_ was all the response he gave before he left, the door sliding shut behind him.

When Iza couldn’t feel his presence anymore, she sank back against the wall and pressed her lips together tight to stop her jaw from wobbling. She didn’t want to go tonight. She didn’t want to leave this room. Her heart hurt over the fact that she’d offended Master Windu. He had never done anything to intentionally hurt her and here she sat, accusing him of being unable to _feel_. What a horrible apprentice she was. It was just too bad that she couldn’t go to Anakin and tell him he needed to find someone else for the job. He was likely long gone at this point, and asking for the favor to be dropped would give him grounds to tell someone _exactly_ where she’d been the night before. She wanted to go see Catcher, but now wasn’t the best time and she knew it. They had to lay low and give some time for things to settle before they tried meeting up like that again.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

Her head throbbed painfully the longer she sat here thinking about it all and Iza just couldn’t take it anymore. Getting up from her spot, she headed out of her room and stood there trying to make a choice. She could go to the Medcenter and ask for the pain meds that would only work for a short while, or she could go down to the base and see Catcher and risk getting them both into trouble. The ever-growing halo around her vision and the sharp stabbing above her eye made the decision for her and she turned to lurch off towards the Medcenter. She couldn’t bother Catcher; she’d put herself into this state and she couldn’t bring her suffering to him. She hadn’t gotten very far when the searing pain stopped her in her tracks and she had to put her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes for just a few moments of temporary relief.

Clenching her teeth, she slid her fingers back into her hair and tried to find the spots where Catcher’s fingers usually settled, pushing down and rubbing to no avail. The sudden ache in her knees suggested that she’d been unable to hold herself up any longer and Iza switched from trying to massage the pain away to grabbing handfuls of her hair by the roots and tugging. It was nearly as painful but also felt as though it was canceling out some of the sharper pain near the back of her head. She’d started to grab for a different patch of hair when a set of hands slid beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet, then swept her up entirely into strong arms she wasn’t familiar with. Her wrists were pulled by an invisible force and made to be tucked against her chest and all she could do was give a weak shout of protest at having lost the _one_ thing that was working.

“Sleep,” a deep voice sounded in her ear and a fingertip pressed the spot between her eyes, sending a warm sensation through her that felt oddly like she was being submerged into a tank of warm water. It suddenly became extremely difficult to keep her eyes open and she dropped her head against the shoulder of the person carrying her, struggling to fight back against the command. It was no use; her lids slid shut and a peaceful sort of bliss pulled her down deep into its embrace.


	6. What If I Take The Blame?

Iza wasn’t sure where she was when she opened her eyes. She felt nauseous and couldn’t focus on anything in the dark room, but she could hear the soft hum of machinery nearby and once her senses started coming back she took note of a presence in the dark. It didn’t appear to be threatening—so far—but her blurry eyes couldn’t quite make out the figure at all. With a great deal of effort, she pushed herself upright on shaky arms and grunted when a soft pressure against her chest nudged her back.

“You should rest,” Master Windu’s voice was calm and whisper quiet. “You won’t be able to get out of that bed for a while.”

“What…” blinking hard to try and clear the bleariness, Iza brought her hands up and scrubbed them against her face. “What did you do?”

“Gave you the rest that you needed,” a sigh followed. “You should have told me, Iza.”

“Told you…?” Had he just called her _Iza?_ He hadn’t done that since she was a youngling.

“The headaches. You should have said something.”

“I had it handled.” Kind of.

“Relying on pressure points for a cure to something deeper than a surface issue is not a proper way to handle what’s wrong with you.”

 _Great_. So he’d been talking to Catcher. Or he’d been poking around in her head while she was unconscious, which was even worse.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re exhausted, young one,” he got up from his chair then, coming to stand beside the bed and bringing himself into the soft blue glow of the machines nearby. “You’ve been doing far more than what you’ve been honest with me about.”

“Master Windu,” she was dizzy; very, very dizzy. “It was only training. I just wanted to _pass_.”

“You believed in yourself enough that you would have passed without the extra training, Jedi Tacor,” his face was still partially obstructed by the shadows, but from what she _could_ see—concern was painted all over his features. “You’ve caused yourself a great deal of unnecessary stress and you have not taken the proper measures to manage the consequences.”

She wanted to tell him that she hadn’t had the time, but Iza knew what his response would be. He’d tell her that she should’ve made it. Taking care of herself was just as important as the duties of a Jedi and she knew he had every right to be annoyed with her this time. Maybe she should have done more stasis meditation when she had the opportunity; that had seemed to help a bit when she was unable to see Catcher. It also wasn’t the kind of rest that he was talking about, either.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she didn’t have the damn strength to fight him.

“Who are you trying to impress, Jedi?” His question had her looking at him strangely. “You have always been driven to do your best—a trait I admire. But in recent years, your focus has shifted. You push yourself for the wrong reasons and put doubt in your abilities. Whose approval are you trying to gain when you already have mine and that of the Order?”

“Nobody,” she shook her head.

“Perhaps it’s the approval of yourself you seek?” He canted his head with a pointed look on his face and Iza turned away. “You’re much harder on yourself than anyone else is, Jedi Tacor.”

“I have to be.” She muttered, frowning at the pillow. “People expect more out of you when you’re the Padawan of Mace Windu. I…” she bit her tongue and swallowed hard. “It was so _humiliating_ for me to be kept back while others went on to be knighted, and I couldn’t blame anyone but myself. I know you had your reasons—but that’s not how _they_ saw it.”

The edge of the bed dipped under his weight as he sat, but the Jedi Master said nothing; he just waited for her to continue.

“I worked so _hard_. I did everything right. I followed all of your teachings, and you still kept me from my Trials.” Shutting her eyes, Iza huffed out a breath. “I _know_ I let my jealousy set me back. I _know_ that I’m to blame for that. But do you understand how hard it is to watch everyone else go on to pass and be left behind?”

“You treated being knighted as a competition, Jedi Tacor,” Windu’s voice pulled her attention back to him. “It is a privilege. I could not let you take your Trials when you were still in the mindset of needing to be _better_ than your peers.”

“Only to _myself_ , Master!”

“That sort of thinking leads to dark things, my young apprentice. You know that. The selfishness of needing to constantly better yourself has led you to this point,” he waved a hand over the medical bed she rested in. “Where do you think you would be had I not set up your Trials?”

“Gone.” She answered far too quickly and too honestly, diverting her eyes to the ceiling. “Somewhere not here.”

“You would walk away from all I taught you because you didn’t get your way?”

“I would walk away from constantly feeling like I’m not good enough,” she shook her head, absently clutching a handful of the blanket that was draped over her. “I would go where I felt like I was needed and take your teachings with me. But I could not stay in a place where I felt unimportant.”

“Is that how you feel?” He tilted his head to try and get her to look in his direction and when that didn’t work, Windu got to his feet to disrupt her line of sight. “I would like you to be honest with me, Jedi.”

“I did,” she shrugged a shoulder and hoped he wouldn’t see the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “But not always in your eyes, Master.”

“Is this why you sought solace in the Clone Trooper?”

Iza brought her hands up to cover her face and curled away from him, unable to keep from sobbing into her palms. She couldn’t take any more. Confessing to him that she often felt like a smudge on the wall of the Temple had been hard enough; she didn’t want to explain her reasons for getting attached to Catcher on top of it. She also didn’t want to end up giving him more information than he needed to know. He wouldn’t understand, anyway. He might claim that he was simply a placid mannered man, but she knew that he had it in him to urge her into breaking away from Catcher. He’d done it before and there was nothing to stop him from trying to do it again.

The hand that he placed on her shoulder was supposed to comfort her, but it did little more than make her cry harder. She wanted him to leave. She felt far too vulnerable to have him around. The heavy sounding sigh behind her had her bracing herself for another lecture about _letting go_ of attachments, but it never came. Instead, the hand fell away and the sound of his boots on the tile floor grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared altogether. When she was sure he was finally gone, she turned over onto her back and glared up at the ceiling. She wished she wasn’t so damn dizzy; she’d leave this stupid room and go back to her own where she could at least cry in peace. It felt like she was going to have someone walk in on her at any moment and she didn’t like it.

Somewhere in the back of her foggy head she remembered that she was supposed to be with Senator Amidala right now. Anakin was going to be _pissed_. He was probably going to go straight to the council and tell them where she’d really been last night and she would be stripped of her knighthood. There was a huge part of her that didn’t care. After confessing to Master Windu that she’d been ready to walk out if she hadn’t been allowed to take her Trials—which had only been a half-truth—she was pretty sure she was walking on thin ice anyway. Turning over on the bed again, she pulled the pillow into her arms and buried her face in it, shutting her eyes and imagining that she was with snuggled up to Catcher instead of stuck up inside of this horrible room.

~*~*~*~

“We need to _talk_ ,” Anakin’s irritated voice was enough to spark a headache all on its own when he caught up to Iza several days later. He’d been gone for the duration of her Medcenter stay and _clearly_ no one had told him about it.

“Must we?” She’d been on her way to the base for some of the extra training she’d been promised by her squad, which she wasn’t even sure they’d give her now that _someone_ had let it slip about her Med-stay.

“I was told that someone else had to fill in for you during the Senate dinner,” _man_ those blue eyes could get cold. “Where were you this time?”

“Listen,” stopping in her tracks, Iza looked up at him with a tired expression and tried hard not to gnash her teeth. The medic droid had told her that grinding her teeth could trigger cluster headaches like the one she’d had the other day. “I apologize that I was unable to fulfill the favor. I had a medical emergency. It was out of my hands.”

“Did you have an adverse reaction to the morning-after shot?” He looked her over and raised an eyebrow. “Because I could swear you and I were at the same dispenser the other night. That should’ve been enough.”

 _How_ the hell did this man manage to make her want to slap him in less than thirty seconds flat? Just a few days ago, she’d been thankful that he hadn’t ratted her out to the council and had given a pretty good cover story for her absence and now he was picking at her for her carelessness.

“You’ve got serious stones, Skywalker,” she snapped, curling her fingers so tight that her knuckles cracked. “Is this how you talk to your Padawan? Do you berate her like this? Because if that’s the case, maybe someone should have her removed from your care.”

“Where were you? _Really?_ ” He gave her a look like he was daring her to try and take Ahsoka from him, but wasn’t going to comment.

“I was in the _Medcenter_ , you moron!” She would _not_ let him get her stressed out. She would _not_. “You can go to Master Windu and ask him yourself if you don’t believe me. He’s the one who put me there.”

“What for?”

“That’s not any of your business,” folding her arms, she took a step back and turned her gaze away. “I can’t apologize any more than I have for the broken favor. If you want something else from me, then ask. If you simply want to stand there and treat me like a piece of garbage, _keep moving_. I have things to do.”

Anakin was silent. So silent, in fact, that Iza would’ve thought he’d left if not for the pulse of his presence radiating in the air. When he took too long to respond, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye to find him studying her like he was trying to figure out what he could ask of her.

“Will you hurry it up?” She snapped, huffing out a breath. “I did say I was busy, Skywalker.”

“You need to be my cover.” He said finally, sounding extremely hesitant.

“What do you mean?”

“You know something about me that no one else does,” he’d dropped his voice to a low murmur, but his face was just as serious as ever. “And I know something about you that is _extremely_ damning. We should… help each other.”

“Are you asking me to pretend to—”

“Your Master is already under the impression that you and I were out **together**. As is Master Obi-Wan,” he looked a little disgruntled as he said it, glaring at his boots.

“What did you do?” She whispered, staring at him as her stomach dropped out from under her. “ _Anakin!_ ”

“I don’t believe that my _assignment_ story stuck the way I wanted it to.” He looked sheepish—no, _ashamed_. “And you returned to the Temple with so many marks on your neck that I got fingers pointed at me.”

“They think… that we…” _Kriff the Maker_. “Even Master Windu believes this?!”

“I’m not sure. But Master Obi-Wan would not stop pestering me and I may have… made a false confession.”

She was going to pass out. Iza was going to pass out right there on the damn walkway and crack her head and _die_. Force, it would be such a kinder experience than what she was going through right now.

“Jedi are not supposed to _fraternize_ with one another,” she said slowly, not looking at him. “What did your Master say?”

“I do believe he was in too much shock to say much.” Anakin shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s under the impression that you hate me.”

“I _do_ hate you!”

“What did I ever do to _you?_ ”

Iza shook her head and waved her hands in front of her to indicate that it didn’t matter for the moment. Pinching the bridge of her nose to try and stop the headache she could already feel beginning to creep up, she took a few seconds to breathe and try to calm down.

“What the hell am I supposed to tell Catcher?” She asked when she finally looked at him again.

“The truth,” Anakin still looked extremely put out by the idea that someone didn’t like him. “Same as what I’ve told my— _friend_.”

“Who is she?” If he could ask invasive questions, so could Iza. “I think I’ve earned the right to know.”

“You really _haven’t_.” He fixed her with a hard look, though it was mixed with a touch of something she couldn’t quite read. “Listen, there won’t be anything _funny_ about it. We only need to make _them_ think that it’s happening.”

“Master Windu is going to think I’m some sort of _harpy_.” Dropping her head back with a miserable groan, Iza ran her fingers through her hair and cussed under her breath. “Not to mention _every_ damn Clone on the base who has ever seen me with Catcher. I’m going to look like a…”

“Because _they_ don’t sleep with whatever they can?” He laughed a little and shot her an amused look. “Iza, have you ever been around those men when they’re off duty?”

“It’s _different_ when you’re a girl, Anakin! Men treat it as some sort of _game_.”

“I take offense to that,” he sure as shit looked like he did. “And I know a handful of other men who would, too.”

“I _love_ Catcher,” she puffed her chest out and stood up as tall as she could, balling her hands into fists again. “I don’t want to hurt him. People will _talk_ and it will get back to him.”

“And I love my partner,” his expression softened to something far more genuine than she’d ever seen and she couldn’t help but believe him. “We aren’t doing this to hurt them, Iza. If anything, it will keep people off of our backs. Or at least off of _yours_.”

He had a point. He had a good damn point and it pissed her off. Looking over her shoulder at the base where she could hear laughter and shouts from the Clones, Iza rubbed at her forehead again and relented.

“Okay,” her shoulders sagged and she felt very defeated when she looked back at him. “But nothing _funny_ , got it? I’ll go far enough to make it believable in front of the right people, but I’m not calling you anything _cute_ and I’m not—”

“Thank you,” clasping his palms together, Anakin bowed his head in a sincere gesture, halting her in the middle of her rant. “I promise not to make it uncomfortable, and I’ll try to make it as fair as I can for us to have time alone with our partners. You’re here more often than I am, so you’ll have an advantage.”

“I don’t see him as much as you may think,” letting out a short laugh, Iza sighed and absently tugged at the end of her ponytail.

“You pulled him onto your squad so that I wouldn’t recruit him,” a faint smirk lifted the corner of the younger man’s lips. “Good move, by the way. Pretending to be a General just to do that.”

“Who was pretending? I went out on assignment afterward, didn’t I?”

“I heard you went absolutely ballistic, too,” giving her a pointed look, Anakin’s smirk never seemed to fade. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or if he was impressed. “Even some of _my_ guys were talking about it.”

Pressing her lips together tightly, Iza dropped her gaze for a minute and twisted her hair around her finger.

“Yeah, well,” shifting uncomfortably, she glanced back at the base again. “I’m not in the business of bringing back black bags.”

“I’m told you almost got yourself killed keeping those men behind you,”

“Don’t scold me, Skywalker. I already had to hear it from Master Windu.”

“Nobody was going to scold you.” He folded his arms over his chest, snorting. “And I think it’d be more appropriate if you started calling me _‘Anakin’_ from now on, don’t you?”

“Fine, _Anakin_ ,” looking over at him, Iza let go of her hair and gestured towards the base. “May I leave? I have an appointment to keep.”

“You’re going to have to start hanging around me a little more, you know,”

“Yeah—but not right now,” taking a few steps back from him, she shrugged. “I will be at the base until this evening. If you must make it look like there’s something going on between us, then I suggest coming by closer to dinner time to walk me back to the Temple. I’d rather not have Catcher witness _whatever_ it is I’ll have to do to make this look believable.”

“All right then.” Giving a nod, Anakin simply turned on his heel and walked in the other direction back towards the Temple.

Breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally off her tail, Iza jogged the rest of the way up to the base and poked her head into the barracks, frowning when she didn’t see Catcher.

“Karver,” whistling through her teeth to catch the Clone’s attention, she gestured to Catcher’s bed. “Where’s he at?”

“Setting up the course,” she wasn’t sure if she liked the way his dark eyes were looking her over. “Third hangar over, General. He should be in the back.”

Thanking him, she rubbed at the slight ache above her eye and made her way to the training hangar where she saw a few of her other squad members milling around in preparation for whatever it was they had planned for her. Near the back, Catcher was sorting through various ammo rounds, looking like he was in a damn sour mood. At first, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to approach him. She’d never seen him with a look on his face like that before, except maybe when they’d had the argument in the hostel. She wasn’t going to have a choice in a moment because he’d looked up from what he was doing and spotted her. Something flickered in his pretty eyes that she couldn’t read and he snorted before going back to his work.

_What the fuck?_

She was pretty sure she hadn’t willed herself to move, but she’d started walking further into the hangar until she stood in front of the box of bolts he was sifting through. When he didn’t look up again, she reached out and snatched the block of bolts from him.

“What do you want?” He asked, not sounding like himself at all.

“Excuse me?”

“What are you here for, Iza?” Reaching to take the block back, he crammed it into the blaster and set it aside, shooting her a look. “Your exercises are in the next—”

“What is this attitude? What have I done?”

“I don’t know, _sweetheart_ ,” shutting the lid of the ammo trunk, he slapped his hands down on top of it and leaned into her. “You tell me,”

“I don’t _know_ ,” she started to reach out to touch his face and recoiled when he swatted her hand away. “ _Catcher!_ ”

“Where have you been?” His voice was a low growl and his eyes burned into her when he finally leveled his gaze with hers. “Why am I hearing talk of you getting into bed with General Skywalker?”

“I was at the Medcenter, Catch,” her legs felt weak and she had to prop herself against the trunk so she wouldn’t fall over. “I had a really bad migraine the other day. Master Windu wouldn’t let me—”

“And Skywalker?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,”

“So it’s true?” he stepped up closer to her and for a minute, Iza felt a strange pang of fear in her belly. Maybe it was the look on his face like he wanted to rip something in half, or maybe it was because she was terrified he wouldn’t let her speak and tell him all of the necessary information. “You crawled out of bed with me and went straight to him?”

“ _No_ ,” when had he backed her against the wall? “Catch—”

Both of her hands went up when he slapped a palm against the wall just above her head and leaned in just enough for her to catch a quick whiff of something on his breath. Had he been drinking? This early in the day?

“ _Please listen to me_ ,” she whispered, not wanting to have to push him back if she didn’t have to. “Catcher, just listen to me,”

He said nothing; just stared at her with that mad look in his eye like he’d been betrayed.

“It’s a _cover_ , Catch,” swallowing thickly, she hoped he wouldn’t get angry and hit the wall again. “He was at the hostel the night we were there. He saw me. I saw _him_. He was with someone.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” He still looked skeptical and pissed as hell, but at least Catcher seemed willing to continue listening.

“He covered for me when I didn’t show the next day. He tried to say it was an assignment, but the other Jedi… they seem to think it’s _something else_. He didn’t exactly tell them otherwise.” Turning her hands up, Iza made a face. Honestly, she couldn’t understand how the hell anyone had come to that conclusion in the slightest. She and Anakin never crossed paths if they could help it. “He thinks it’d be a better idea to let them believe it. Keep the heat off so we can be with the people we _really_ love.”

Brown eyes searched hers for a long time, his free hand coming up to grasp her jaw. Iza tried _hard_ not to flinch at the touch, but Catcher noticed anyway. His stance seemed to relax a little and the grip he had on her face was gentle in comparison to what she’d expected. Rubbing his thumb against the swell of her jaw, he growled out a breath and leaned in to kiss her hard. He tasted like caf and some kind of liquor; it might’ve been an intoxicating mix if she wasn’t still worried he was angry with her.

“He doesn’t touch you,” he demanded in a low voice, pressing in closer until Iza was trapped between his chest and the wall. “I swear to the Maker Iza, I’ll kill the little bastard.”

It was probably _very_ bad that this was turning her on. She hadn’t cared much for the violent way he’d behaved towards her, but the possessive behavior was another thing entirely. It _shouldn’t_ be so alluring, but **damn** ; there was something extremely arousing about having someone feel so damn strongly for her they’d behave like this. Nodding slowly, she reached up and brushed her fingertips over his chin, gasping when he pressed even closer and lightly slid his fingers down the column of her neck.

“Catcher,” _Force_ , her knees were getting weak. He put no pressure behind the touch, but _fuck_ —she wanted him to.

“Say it,” his fingers stroked the banging pulse spot in her neck and he grazed his teeth over her chin. “Say it, Iza,”

“He won’t touch me,” she really wished there weren’t about twenty Troopers on the other side of the wall; she was getting dangerously close to sealing these doors and getting him out of that damn armor. “I promise.”

“He better not,” giving her another mouth bruising kiss, Catcher pulled away and took the heavy heat of his body with him.

Iza felt weak as she braced a palm against the wall to keep from sliding to the floor, flushed and breathing a little heavier than she would’ve liked. She could taste that bitter liquor on her lips when she licked them but beyond that was all Catcher. _Fuck_ , she was here to do something. Combat training. She’d much rather jam the locks of the doors and see what might happen if she kept poking that beast instead, but _maybe_ that wasn’t a good idea.

“You okay?” Catcher’s voice was still rough, but he at least sounded _somewhat_ concerned.

“Nope,” she laughed and rubbed her palms over her face, groaning almost miserably.

“Did I hurt you?” Well, at least he cared.

“I don’t think I’d complain if you had,” peeking at him from between her fingers, Iza watched realization wash over him and a cheeky sort of smirk curve the corner of his lips.

“I see,” he was coming back over and she had to move away from the wall before he trapped her again. Unfortunately, her legs were jelly and he was faster. His arms bracketed either side of her head as he pressed up flush against her chest, pinning her to the wall and eliciting a soft noise of surprise from her. Bowing his head, he grinned slowly and lightly brushed his lips over hers. “You good, Little Bit?”

“You’re gonna get us in so much trouble,” her fingers had already caught hold of his utility belt and were clinging for dear life. “Catcher, we can’t do this here,”

“I missed you,” his voice was muffled as he pressed kisses to her jaw and trailed them to her neck, burying his face there to let his tongue and teeth find her pulse and start raising a mark on her skin. “ _Force_ , I missed you, Little Bit,”

“I couldn’t come see you,” it was already getting too warm in this small space and Iza was anxious about every single clomp of a boot she heard in the hall. “I wasn’t allowed to leave the Medcenter.”

Picking his head up to look at her, he knit his brows together and tried to catch his breath.

“Headaches?” The concern on his face was genuine but there was still a great deal of lust in his eyes that he couldn’t conceal.

“And exhaustion, apparently,” she tried not to look sheepish and offered a tender kiss, gasping softly when one of his arms dropped around her waist and pulled her in tight. “I’m all right, I swear.”

“I’m a bastard,” planting damp kisses over her face, Catcher shook his head at himself and rested his forehead to hers. “All this time I’ve been angry and you’ve been sick.”

“You didn’t know,” she turned her head to try and meet his lips as many times as she could, eventually giving in and letting him pepper them wherever he wanted.

“I _should_ have,” closing his eyes as he breathed harshly through his nose, the Clone brought his other hand down and brushed his knuckles down the side of her face. “I just… someone from Rex’s team said they’d heard something about you and Skywalker and then _someone else_ said it. Then _Cody_ said something and you weren’t around for me to ask.”

“I didn’t even know until a little while ago,” shrugging, she moved her hands to his face, smirking faintly at the feel of stubble on his jawline. Catcher was usually pretty good about keeping himself groomed but the longer she looked at him, the more unkempt he appeared to be. His hair was a damn mess and his pretty brown eyes with the hazel tinge in the centers were _tired_. Her poor lover had clearly been stressed out over the last few days. “He sprung it on me. Trust me when I say it’s the last thing I want to do but… it’s not a _terrible_ idea, Catch.”

“That’s what pisses me off the most,” huffing, he kissed her fingertips when she traced them over his bottom lip. “It’s fucking genius. I hate him.”

“Makes two of us, my love,” grinning at him, she leaned in to steal a kiss when the sound of approaching footsteps spooked her and she quickly shoved him off and pushed open the lid to the ammo case to make it look like she’d been digging through it.

“You done with those blasters, Catcher?” Unk asked, shooting the two of them a wary look. “Cody’s getting impatient.”

“Be there in a minute. I’m showing her what’s what.” Waving a hand at Iza, he made a face. “They don’t teach them anything up in that damn Temple. It’s all lightsabers and hand-to-hand with them. They’re _peaceful_ , remember?”

“Fuck off,” Iza snapped, shooting him a look and earning a loud guffaw from Unk.

“Are you allowed to talk like that?” He asked, giving a lopsided grin.

“I’m not in the Temple and as far as I can tell, there aren’t any other Jedi here.” Shrugging, she picked up one of the boxes of bolts and turned it over in her hands. “As long as you don’t tattle on me, I’ll talk however I please.”

“Fair enough,” putting both hands up, Unk turned to leave. “Just hurry it up. We’re losing daylight.”

“I’m the General,” Iza scoffed, giving him a look. “I’m the one that says when we start.”

“Uh-uh little lady,” wagging a finger at her, Unk shook his head. “This is my hangar. You’re on my turf, spending _my_ time. You listen to _me_ until it’s over.”

Exchanging a look with Catcher, who shrugged as if to tell her he had no say in the matter, Iza pretended to sigh and rolled her eyes.

“ _Fine_. But only for the lessons.”

“Good girl. _Hurry up_.”


	7. What if I Told You That I Planned This?

It felt _strange_ being near Anakin like this.

Iza couldn’t deny that the guy was a skilled flirt, but _boy_ did he lay it on thick. He’d managed to wrangle her in for a mission along with a mix of his battalion and her rag-tag squad—a very disgruntled Catcher included—and as they sat up in the cockpit with Ahsoka, he occasionally would say something stupid to compliment her. Right now, he was propped up against the control panel for the holo-projector while she showed Ahsoka a few blocking techniques with her disarmed lightsaber.

“You’ve got the right idea,” he said, gesturing to the way Iza had flicked her wrist in demonstration. “But your form is off.”

“No it isn’t,” Iza argued, giving him a look. “This is what I learned.”

“Here,” pushing off of the projector, he came up behind her and set his hands on her hips, leaning into her back and forcing her to straighten herself a little. “You want to stand more like this.”

“I believe—” stepping away with a rather uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, Iza tried to play it off with a smile. “—that I learned a different form of combat than you, Anakin.”

“Is that so?” He smiled back and looked her up and down, making Ahsoka glance between the two and cringe. “Maybe you can show _me_ then?”

 _Focus._ She needed to remember that this was supposed to be a two-way thing. Shrugging a shoulder as coyly as she could, Iza bit down on her bottom lip and clipped her lightsaber back to her belt.

“ _Maybe_ ,”

“I think I’m gonna go see what someone else is doing,” Ahsoka muttered, looking extremely uncomfortable. “You two have fun.”

Watching her go, Iza sank into a chair and heaved a sigh. She didn’t want to be in here anymore. She’d much rather be down in the barracks with her squad where she could just get drunk or hang out with Catcher. But no—she’d been told that she wasn’t allowed down there because Captain Rex didn’t feel like _dealing_ with her _funny business_.

“I’m going to go lie down,” she muttered after a few minutes of just staring at the control panel in front of her. “I’m not in the mood to play games with you, Anakin.”

“Why not?” His question was curious and playful but when she looked at his face, he seemed put off.

“You come on a little strong.” Gesturing to where Ahsoka had walked off, she snorted. “You chased your own Padawan off with your nonsense.”

“Ahsoka will be fine. She’s heard worse.”

“ _That’s_ comforting,” getting up from her seat, Iza started to leave the room when Anakin stepped in front of her. Giving him a look, she started to go around only to have him follow with that smug little smile of his spread across his lips. “ _Anakin_ ,”

“C’mon,” he nudged her shoulder with his and stepped close enough for her to feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. “Stay,”

What the _hell_ was happening? Was he seriously doing this? What about that girl he said he loved? Had he forgotten about what she’d said before? _Boy_ —if Catcher decided to come up here now, this was going to go bad real fast.

“Oh for the love of— _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan’s irritated tone cut through Iza’s frantic thoughts and the taller Jedi winked at her before stepping back to face his Master.

“Yes, Master Obi-Wan?” Looking the picture of innocence, Anakin watched the way the older man shook his head and shot them both a look.

“If you’re going to behave that way, do it _privately_.”

“That can be arranged,” he’d started to rest a hand on Iza’s lower back when she smiled tightly in Obi-Wan’s direction and stepped away.

“I’m sorry, Master Kenobi.” Giving an apologetic nod, she walked briskly out of the cockpit and rushed down the hall, hearing heavy footsteps behind her.

“ _Iza_ ,” Anakin reached for her, only to have her swat him away.

“Don’t,” turning to shove a finger in his face, the older Jedi clenched her teeth and scowled. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but you _promised_ nothing funny. You better knock this shit off, Skywalker.”

“It has to be _believable_ ,” pushing her hand out of his face he laughed like her anger didn’t bother him in the slightest. “I don’t know what you expected.”

“Not this,” taking a step back from him Iza put her hands up so he would stay put. “I’d rather get caught than deal with another minute of this.”

“You really do hate me, don’t you?”

“I don’t…” Iza hesitated. _No_ , she couldn’t say she _hated_ him. He was going out of his way to help her quite a bit. Granted, he was getting something out of it too. But he’d done some pretty selfless things for her when he didn’t have to. “I don’t _hate_ you, Anakin.”

“Then what is it? You flinch any time I touch you and you’re cold even when you’re supposed to be pretending to be—”

“I’m uncomfortable,” she stared at her boots when she said it, arms folding over her chest. “It’s hard to tell whether you’re just acting or if you’re…”

“Attracted to you?” She didn’t like the sly smile that parted his lips and showed a row of stupidly perfect teeth. “While I’ll admit you’re easy on the eyes, my heart belongs to another.”

“That hasn’t seemed to stop you from putting your body on mine.”

“I told you—we need to make it _believable_ , Iza.”

“You could try showing some restraint,” taking another step back, Iza wondered when someone had moved the ship’s walls around. She hadn’t expected her shoulders to hit hard metal so quickly. “The entire crew does not need to think you can’t control yourself around me.”

“And why not?”

“Because that’s _not_ proper, Anakin!”

“ _You_ care about being proper?” he seemed to be growing more and more amused by the moment and it was driving her nuts. “This coming from the woman who walked around the Temple with visible love marks all over her neck?”

Burying her fingers into her hair as much as she could with it pulled back the way that it was, Iza bit down on her tongue and stared at the floor. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wished she hadn’t accepted the invitation to join him on the assignment at all, but he’d tried to commandeer her men. Iza wasn’t going to let him take them without her. _Especially_ not Catcher. The toes of Anakin’s boots came into her line of sight and she ducked away from the touch of his hand, looking up at him strangely while he eyed her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“ _Hey_ ,” both of their heads turned at a voice that echoed from down the hall and Iza felt sick when she saw Popper glaring at them. His dark eyes seemed to shift warily between the two of them before he was marching over and taking hold of her arm, pulling her out from between Anakin and the wall while giving the taller man a sour look. “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow her,”

“Not at all,” Anakin appeared stunned as he waved his hand.

“ _Good_.” Half dragging Iza down the hall beside him, the Clone was not gentle at all as he led her towards the barracks. His grip loosened once they were off the floor of the main deck, however, and he eventually let go once they’d gotten behind safer doors. “Are you okay, General?”

“Where’s Catcher?” She didn’t like how shaky her voice was and Popper didn’t appear to either. A gentle hand settled between her shoulders to guide her down into the barracks, past the curious eyes of Anakin’s crew to where her men had been given beds. Catcher was reclining against the wall of his bunk, looking a bit bored as he listened to Ze yammer on about _something_ he hadn’t been paying attention to; when his eyes caught sight of his brother leading Iza over, he damn near bashed his head trying to get to his feet.

“Little Bit?” why did she look so haunted? What had happened?

“Clear out,” Popper waved his hands around, ushering the squad to the other side of the barracks to give the two some privacy. He wasn’t an idiot; none of them were. They all knew something was up between their General and their brother, but they weren’t snitches either. “Come on you bucketheads, move it,”

When the majority of the Clones had shuffled off to another area to keep watch for them, Catcher sat back down and pulled Iza onto the bunk with him, grunting in surprise when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

“Sweetheart,” hauling her onto his lap, he cupped her face and leveled her gaze with his. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t handle it,” she murmured, leaning in to rest her head against his. “I can’t stand the way he looks at me. I can’t stand his _words_. I feel so _vile_.”

“Then we’ll find another way to keep our secret,” there had to be another option, right? Something that didn’t cause her such discomfort and didn’t make him want to snap the little bastard in half.

“It’s not that simple,” she wished it were, though. “It’s… it’s a favor. I’m doing this as a favor for covering for me.”

“This is some fucking _favor_.”

“You’re telling me.” Huffing out a breath, Iza eyed him for a long moment and leaned in to steal another kiss, much softer than the last. “Did you send Popper to look for me?”

“What? No,” Catcher shook his head and gave a confused look. “I’ve been stuck down here all day. We’re not supposed to leave until patrol switch.”

“What was he doing upstairs then?”

“Dunno. He just sorta disappeared.”

“He found me with Anakin,” the look that hardened Catcher’s face had Iza quickly running a hand across his chest to soothe him. “Not like that. We were… arguing, I guess? Popper just sort of—took me from him.”

“Good man,” he was going to have to buy him a drink later.

“I want to stay down here. I don’t want to go back.”

“I’d like that very much, but you know that can’t happen Little Bit.” He looked so sorry when he said it, too.

“Come up to _my_ quarters, then.” The hand on his chest moved in slow passes, tracing the hard outline of his muscles through the fabric of his undersuit. “After patrol switch, just come to my room.”

“I’m not sure that’s a wise idea, Little Bit,” _boy_ , he wished she wouldn’t do that. It made it hard for him to focus on behaving in front of his brothers.

“I’m your superior, Catcher,” her fingers were sweeping lower to his abdomen and she pouted when he took hold of her hand before she could get a feel of his abs through his undersuit. “If anyone asks, you’re my assigned guard.”

“And what exactly would I be protecting you from?” Catcher looked amused, even as he snatched her other hand away from his stomach. _This little…_

“A vile, lecherous, _persistent_ Jedi,” casting a quick glance to check the whereabouts of his Clone brothers, Iza leaned in and gave a tug to the earring dangling from Catcher’s lobe. “Please? _Please?_ It’s been _days_ , Catch,”

“Don’t remind me,” he growled, blowing out a breath. “I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart. No promises.”

She’d take it. Kissing his cheek with a snicker as he growled at her again, she tugged her hands free and _would_ have pulled him in for proper one if not for the sound of a throat being cleared behind them.

“ _General_ ,”

Twisting, she was almost relieved to find Popper standing in between the beds. At least it wasn’t Rex.

“Yeah?”

“Got company. You might want to…” he waved his hand to indicate that they needed to break away from what they were doing.

“Thank you,” It took a fair amount of effort for Iza to crawl off of Catcher’s lap and she smiled when she felt him take hold of her hand and kiss her fingers, unable to keep from affectionately running the tips beneath his chin before turning to see what sort of _company_ Popper had been talking about. Behind her, she missed out on seeing the tattooed man shoot a knowing look at her lover and grin wide when Catcher flipped him off. She was far too busy feeling anger pool into her gut when the dark robes of Anakin Skywalker came into view between the mass of black and white armor of the Clones. “ _Fuck_ ,”

“You’re needed upstairs,” Anakin’s blue eyes were focused on Iza and Iza only and he kept a reasonable distance when he stopped in front of her. At least he was smart enough to know to give her personal space in here. Iza had no doubt that her squad would have no problem trying to kick his head in if he got too close. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“What sort of change?”

“We’ve got a new assignment.”

“ _Be specific_ , Anakin,”

He worked his jaw for a moment, looking like he didn’t want to talk about it in front of the two Clones behind her. When it was clear that Iza wasn’t going to budge until he gave her _some_ kind of clarification, he ran his fingers through his long hair and sighed.

“We’re being diverted to Aspith. There’s talk of Separatist droids settling into the main city.”

“Just talk?”

“The video is upstairs,” he gestured above him and hesitated again. “We’re only taking a cruiser.”

 _Oh_ —that’s why he didn’t want to do this here. Sucking her teeth, Iza folded her arms over her chest and fixed him with a look.

“Let me guess—we’re also only taking _your_ men?”

“Would you rather we put _yours_ in danger?” A brow went up and she silently cussed at him for knowing too damn much about her without really knowing her at all. “Look,” he stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders, giving a light squeeze. “If you want to stay behind, you can stay behind. But you know how it’s going to look if—”

“I’ll go,” she could practically feel Catcher struggling against the Force wall she’d put up so he’d stay in his seat once Anakin had put his hands on her and she wished the younger man would back off. “I’ll go.”

“ _Iza—_ ” the bunk rattled from Catcher’s attempts to get to his feet.

“ _Stand down, Trooper_ ,” she didn’t like having to bark at Catcher like that, but she also didn’t want to get caught between these two if they decided to try and tear each other apart. Looking over her shoulder at him with the softest expression she could muster, Iza mouthed _I’m sorry_ and watched him relent, though his eyes fixed on Anakin with a fierceness that should’ve struck him dead. Turning to face Anakin again, she reached up and brushed his hands from her shoulders, moving to walk around him when he caught her by the elbow and halted her. “ _Let go_ ,”

“Do you want to take him?” Anakin asked in a quiet voice.

“Is he going to get hurt?”

“I can’t make promises, Iza.”

Jerking out of his grasp, she looked up at him and shook her head before glancing back at Catcher; he looked so damn defeated that it made her heart hurt.

“He stays.”

~*~*~*~

“You’re quiet,” Anakin had come to sit beside Iza at the back of the cruiser where she was hiding. She hadn’t wanted to sit with the others, far too distracted with her thoughts of Catcher to want company.

“What do you want?” Resting her chin on her arms, she avoided his gaze. She didn’t want to play games or let him try to flirt with her to save face.

The laugh he gave in response was soft. Not exactly what she’d expected out of him. He was usually playful or so damn irritatingly smug that Iza wasn’t aware he knew how to behave in any other manner.

“You know, for all the talk I’ve heard about you being a _real nice girl_ , you’re kind of rude.” He tilted his head to try and look at her, not surprised when she turned her head the other way. “Or is it just me you treat like this?”

“Anakin,” pressing the tip of her tongue between her lips in frustration, Iza exhaled harshly through her nose and forced herself to pick her head up to look at him. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you ever?”

“You promised you’d let me have time with him,” she whispered, dropping her head back to her arms. “And then you took me away right in front of him. He’s already angry enough with the situation.”

“I tried to get you to come upstairs with me,” he turned a hand up. “You were stubborn.”

“How do you do this?” Green eyes flicked to his blue ones, sad and frustrated. “How do you stay away from your… _friend_ for such long periods of time? Don’t you miss her?”

This made him give another short laugh and hang his head, fingers dragging through his hair slowly like he wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“Like crazy. It’s extremely difficult at times. But,” Anakin paused and kept his eyes on his knees. “We’ve been together for a lot longer than you and your Catcher. We’ve learned how to make it work. _You_ might have a more difficult time because he’s around constantly. I… don’t have that blessing.”

“I’m sorry,” she meant it. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to not be able to see the one he cared for on a daily basis. Iza felt _lost_ whenever she wasn’t allowed to see Catcher sometimes. It’d been this way even before they’d confessed any real feelings for each other.

“All of this keeps me from thinking about it too much,” waving around at the cruiser, he shrugged. “It also makes me scared as hell that it’s going to find her and take her from me.”

“Is she somewhere dangerous?”

He mulled over how he wanted to answer that; Iza could tell he still didn’t trust her enough to tell her anything vital about his lover.

“Always.” His tone was so damn somber and she wished he’d elaborate, but somehow—he’d said enough for her to be satisfied.

“You live with the same fear I do, then,” tilting her head, she studied his face for a while and watched him turn to look at her, his scarred brow going up high in question. “That you’re going to go somewhere and come back to find that something’s happened. Something you could’ve prevented.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, dropping his gaze again.

“Have you considered—”

“I’ve considered all the same things you have, Iza. But my loyalty lies with the Order and she knows that. She accepts it.” Shaking his head, Anakin seemed to sober quickly as he straightened up against the wall beside her. “She is in no position to abandon post, either. Both of us have… priorities.”

Iza didn’t want to tell him how she’d fought with Catcher over _loyalties_. She had a feeling he wouldn’t take it well if he knew she was willing to give up being a Jedi for her lover. The only reason she was still here was because of Catcher’s insistence, anyway. He didn’t want her giving up all of her hard work for the sake of being selfish; he was a good man like that. And he too, had his duties to uphold. She couldn’t coerce him into abandoning those if he truly didn’t want to.

“You can’t give in, Iza,” he startled her when he spoke again. His voice was so firm and serious but he _still_ wasn’t looking at her. “It’s tempting to want to walk away because you think you’ll be making it easier for yourself, but the reality is that it’s much harder. What would you be without the Order?”

“Don’t… lecture me, Anakin,” she could feel herself getting angry again. Boy, he sure knew how to flip her bitch switch, didn’t he? “You’ve got no damn room to do so.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you, Iza,” rubbing a hand over his face, he finally looked over at her and twitched his lips in a light frown. “But even you must know that the decision would be a poor one.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I know or what I think.”

“You would walk away from being a Jedi for a Clone?”

“He isn’t _just_ a Clone,” turning in her spot, Iza narrowed her eyes and fought back the raging heat of anger swelling in her chest. “He’s a _man_ , Anakin. He has feelings and a mind of his own—same as _you_.”

“But his purpose is to serve the Republic. He was not made—”

“And what is _yours?_ What purpose do _you_ serve, Anakin Skywalker? Oh darling _Chosen One_.” Iza braced herself to be slapped; she’d deserve it. “What the **_fuck_** makes you so special?”

Beside her, Anakin had tensed and was biting down on his tongue like he was trying to hold back something _really_ rude that he wanted to say. A bitter sort of smirk wormed its way onto his face and he let out a slow breath that was almost a laugh, but lacked amusement entirely. Clicking his tongue, he looked over at her with a tilt of his head and just _stared_ for a good long moment before turning away again with a roll of his blue eyes.

“I’ve heard that one before,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the wall. “I’ve heard that one _a lot_. You’re going to have to try a little harder if you want to hurt _my_ feelings, Iza.”

“I don’t _want_ to,” she snapped, trying to steady her breathing. “I want you to stop hurting _mine_.”

He turned his head towards her again, surveying her silently before turning a careless hand up.

“I wasn’t trying to,” his voice was soft with almost no trace of the bitterness that had been there before.

“What were you trying to do, then?”

“Keep you from making a mistake,” he shrugged. “Do you really believe that leaving the Order for him would solve everything for you?”

“I know I wouldn’t be stuck pretending to be in love with _you_.”

“ _Man_ ,” Anakin laughed and pressed a palm to his forehead, peeking at her from the corner of his eye. “You’ve got some serious issues with me, don’t you Tacor?”

“You behave as though you’re superior to me in some way just because you were Knighted first. If the Council knew that you’ve been gallivanting around with some _friend_ in the background for—what did you say, _years?_ Do you think you’d still be their Golden Boy?”

“Me?” he pointed at himself, smiling like she’d told the best joke in the universe. “You think _I’m_ their Golden Boy? You’re mistaking me with my Master.”

“They favor you,”

“They _tolerate_ me.” He made a face. “You’ve got no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“I know enough.”

“No,” grunting as he got to his feet, Anakin shook his head. “You really don’t.”

Reaching to grab him by the end of his robes, Iza yanked him back into his spot and was met with a surprised look from the younger man. For a minute, they just looked at each other before Anakin sank back against the wall and raised an eyebrow.

“ _What?_ ”

“Tell me,” she shrugged. “If I don’t know everything, then tell me, Anakin. Because you’re keeping me in the dark about a lot of things when I’m supposed to be helping you just as much as you’re helping _me_ , and you know a hell of a lot more about _me_ than I know about _you_.”

“There are things you don’t need to know, Iza.”

“I don’t think that’s _fair_ ,” frowning, the brunette held tight to the leather in her hand just in case he thought he was going to get up again. “You could at least tell me her name.”

“No, I can’t.”

“ _Why not?_ ”

“You haven’t earned that sort of trust from me,” looking down to where Iza was clutching his tabard, Anakin scrunched his nose and sighed. “Will you let me go? I have to see how far we are from Aspith.”

“Not until you give me _something_ , Anakin,”

“It’s not enough that you know?” he didn’t want to physically pry her hand off if he didn’t have to, but she was bordering on giving him no choice. “You’re the _only_ one, Iza.”

“And you think that’s a fair enough trade? You knowing so much, and me so little?”

“I can’t give you the information you want, Iza. I will not expose my partner just because you want leverage.”

“I have enough leverage just knowing there _is_ a partner, Anakin,” she scoffed at him and let go of his tabard, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall. “I don’t kriffing want leverage.”

“Then _what_ do you want?”

“For you to _talk_ to me,” looking over at him, Iza frowned hard. “If this is supposed to work as a cover, we need to know more about one another and make it look _real_. How can I do that when I don’t know you and the things I _do_ know—aren’t factual?”

Anakin pressed his lips together in a thin line, heaving a sigh and settling back against the wall again. He supposed it was only fair, as long as she stuck to her word and didn’t poke around for anything _vital_.

“We don’t really have a lot of time for this,” he said, shooting her a look. “So, maybe make it quick?”

“Why would you help me?” If she couldn’t ask anything personal right off, then she’d go for something that would hopefully be easy on him. “You’ve figured out that I’m not fond of you. _And I have reasons_ , even if they’re… **petty**. So, why cover for me?”

“It’s not for the reason you think.”

“And what is it you believe I _think_ is the reason, Anakin?”

“It wasn’t to get you to agree to this,” his expression seemed sincere enough, but Iza wasn’t completely sure. “You’re Master Windu’s apprentice. You’ve got a lot riding on your shoulders. I happen to know you were banned from visiting the barracks for a short while, too. So,” he waved a hand. “I figured if your Master found out you’d spent the night with your Clone, he’d likely have him transferred somewhere you wouldn’t be able to see him at all.”

“He can’t do that,” even as she said it, Iza wasn’t entirely sure. “The army decides what to do with them and where they go.”

“But Master Windu has a lot of pull within the Senate. It may not seem like it sometimes, but he’s…” how did he want to say this without offending her? “…he can be quick to bend to their will. He gives them what they want, even if he seems reluctant to do so. In turn, he’s probably earned favors.”

“He wouldn’t cash them in. You don’t know him like I do.”

“You’re correct. I don’t know him the way you do. But I know that he doesn’t like me very much, and sometimes I wonder if that rubbed off on you.”

Iza ducked her chin, avoiding his gaze. She didn’t want to admit that _maybe_ some of Master Windu’s wariness of Anakin had influenced her own thoughts about him. It was partially his fault that they hadn’t had a lot of interaction when they were younger, after all. He’d wanted to keep her away from him for reasons he wouldn’t explain and even now that she was older, he _still_ wouldn’t tell her what those reasons were.

“It was your first night, wasn’t it?”

Inhaling sharply, Iza’s felt her face grow hot as a scarlet flush started in her cheeks and spread to her neck. _That_ certainly wasn’t any of his business, now was it? Bringing a hand up to half hide her face from him, she turned away and heard him let out a short breath that sounded suspiciously like a snicker.

“Iza,” he nudged her playfully. “Everyone starts somewhere.”

“What does that have to do with you covering for me?”

“It would have a lot to do with you being gone all day.” He cleared his throat, trying not to smirk. “You’d be exhausted.”

“Are you trying to boost your ego, Master Skywalker?”

“I happen to be _fantastic_ in bed, thank you.” Grinning as he looked over at her, Anakin winked and watched her shake her head in disbelief. “Don’t believe me?”

“If you offer a demonstration, I’ll snap your arm off and beat you with it.” Pointing, she bit down on her tongue to keep from laughing. _Honestly_. He was such a smug little bastard.

“You have time for one more question and then I _have_ to go check where we’re at.” His grin dimmed to a simple, expectant smile and he waited while the brunette pondered on what she wanted to ask.

“Why did you take me from Catcher?” Resting her head against the wall, Iza almost pouted at him, twisting the ends of her tabard between her fingers. “Why couldn’t I stay behind?”

“I told you—it would have looked suspicious.”

“That’s not the truth and you know it.”

Licking his lips, Anakin hesitated and let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Rex asked me to separate you two.” He said it quietly, almost like he was ashamed of agreeing to it. “I guess Catcher hasn’t been himself lately. Rex seems to think you’ve got something to do with it. He won’t swap him out of your squad because he’s afraid of what _you_ might do, so he asked me to step in for a little bit.”

Slumping in her spot, Iza felt her heart sink. She’d always thought that Rex was on _their_ side; he’d never given them any reason to think otherwise. He’d been the one to let her sneak into the barracks when she wasn’t supposed to be there, and he’d always turned the other way if he saw something he wasn’t supposed to. How could he ask Anakin to do something like this? Why did he think he couldn’t come to _them_ instead?

“Iza?” Anakin set a hand on her shoulder and moved it when she shrugged him off.

“Go see where we’re at,” she whispered, suddenly not feeling very social. “I’ve bothered you enough, I think.”

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head and moved to get to her feet, pausing halfway as her face started to screw up and she had to cover it with her hands. She felt _betrayed_ ; her own squad went out of their way to keep Anakin’s battalion from noticing anything funny. How could Rex do such a thing? She thought he was their _friend_. She couldn’t fight off the hands that grasped her waist and pulled her down onto an unfamiliar lap, but she wasn’t going to let him hold her to his chest. That was far too intimate for her comfort.

“General Skywalker,” Rex’s voice sent a sick feeling straight to her stomach and Iza pushed Anakin’s hands off, trying to get to her feet without having to look at the Clone Captain.

“Iza—” Anakin got up like he might follow only to let her walk away, brows going up when she shoulder checked the other man _hard_ on her way out. Rex stood there looking stunned and it took him a minute before he blinked at Anakin and shot a confused look at him.

“What the hell was that about?” Pointing over his shoulder, the Clone made a face. “What did you say to her?”

Rubbing his upper lip, the young Jedi wondered if he’d made the right decision to tell her the truth like that. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but she’d wanted to know. Had he been expected to lie?

“ _Anakin_ ,” Rex’s voice was firmer now, drawing the attention of the taller man.

“You might want to avoid her for a little while, Rex,” Anakin advised, offering an apologetic look. The one he got in return was one of disbelief and Rex scoffed at him, rubbing his eyebrow like he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to do that.

“Did you _really_ have to tell her?”

“She asked.”

“You don’t know how to _lie?_ ”

Waving a hand, Anakin shrugged.

“It’s called _building trust_ , Rex.”

“You know I only asked you to do this for me as a favor so—”

“Are you sure Iza’s the problem and not the rumor that was going around?” Raising an eyebrow, Anakin folded his arms over his chest and lowered his voice significantly. “You _do_ know it’s just a rumor. I’m _not_ sleeping with her.”

“Of course I know that.” The other man gave him an offended look. “But the man was drinking on duty. I don’t need him slipping _again_.”

“Did you see her?” Pointing in the direction Iza had gone, the Jedi frowned. “Did you see how hurt she was? Rex—you’re her _friend_.”

“If you had an issue with my request, you should have said something sooner.”

“I didn’t know she was going to ask me about it. And I didn’t know she’d react like that either.”

“Look,” Rex clenched his jaw and tried not to look as frustrated as he felt. “It’s not a decision I wanted to make. I was getting pressure from an… _outside party_ as well.”

“Master Windu, you mean?” _Of course_.

“I don’t know the details. He seems to think that her recent med-stay had something to do with Catcher. He wants them to spend time apart.” Turning his hands up, Rex shrugged and dropped his arms at his sides. “And then _you_ went and brought her and her squad along and I was given an order I had no choice but to follow. You think I enjoy this, Anakin? If I had it my way, I’d just leave them alone. They’re not hurting anybody. Not really.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Even as he said it, Anakin felt like an asshole. “They’re hurting themselves. But only because they’ve got _responsibilities_. If it were a different situation…”

“So you understand where I’m coming from?”

“Unfortunately,” running his hand over his face Anakin let out a sigh and gave his friend a look. “I still think it’s best to leave her alone for a while. Don’t try to apologize. She’s… I can feel how upset she is. It’s making me sick.”

“Roger that,” blowing out a breath with a shake of his head, Rex made a face. “Remind me to never take an order like this again.”

“Only you can make that choice, Rex. Not me.”

“Then assume I’ve gone completely thermal if I do.”

“You got it, buddy.”


	8. Make Me Obsessed

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” Anakin asked as he helped Iza back onto the cruiser, stooped over uncomfortably so she could keep an arm around his shoulder while she limped up the ramp.

“Fine,” _no_ , she was not. Everything hurt and she was pretty sure her wrist was broken. They wouldn’t know until they got the medic droid out of the cabinet. But hey—at least Rex was alive. That damn commando droid had come out of nowhere and probably would have slaughtered the disarmed Clone Captain without her there to help block the attacks. She could still taste the metal in her mouth from being so terrified that her friend would end up in a body bag; maybe it was the blood she kept spitting up?

“Pick her up, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s scolding tone was soft as it followed them into the cruiser while he and Ahsoka supported Rex.

“She won’t let me,” Anakin would’ve shrugged if he could. “She said she could walk.”

If she thought she was capable of more than just a few words and some grunting, Iza would’ve reminded them that she was _right there_ and that she was doing just fine with the support she had. Instead, she just shot Anakin a look from the corner of her bruised eye and huffed out a painful sigh.

“Ahsoka, please go activate the medic.” Carefully helping Rex to sit down on one of the bunks, Obi-Wan surveyed Iza with a wary eye before going to the cockpit. “And when you’ve gotten them _both_ comfortable see if you can find some water, Anakin. The blood looks dreadful.”

“It’s _blood_ ,” Anakin muttered, “It’s not supposed to be pretty.”

“I can do it,” Iza grumbled when the younger man attempted to help her onto the other bunk, bracing her good hand on the top of the bed to steady herself when she pulled away. He ignored her. Lifting her as though she weighed as little as a Tooka, he set her gingerly on the bed and frowned at the way she tried to stifle the sounds of misery she made.

“Iza—”

“Go check on Rex.” She grumbled, shutting her swollen eyes so she didn’t have to look at him. The last person she wanted to show concern for her was Anakin. Much to her dismay, he brushed stray strands of hair away from her forehead and pressed a kiss to a spot that wasn’t mottled with bruises. _Right_. The cover.

“I’m fine,” the Clone piped from where he sat, putting his hands up as the medic droid wheeled over to him. “Really, I don’t think I need nearly as much attention as she does.”

“You’re both in need of attention, Captain.” Obi-Wan called from the front of the cruiser, flipping switches to pull the ramp and get them back in the air. “Anakin, stop dawdling.”

“What?” Shaking himself out of whatever trance he’d put himself in while standing beside the bunk, Anakin blinked and nodded. “Right. Water.”

She heard the sound of his footsteps fading away and Iza blew out the breath she’d been holding, opening her eyes to stare up at the ceiling of the bunk.

“Hey, kid,” Rex’s voice pulled her attention and it took a fair amount of effort for her to look over at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Fuck off, Rex.” Iza muttered, shifting her gaze to the wall so she wouldn’t have to move her head again. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not kidding, Iza,” he sounded like he was trying to be angry but couldn’t find enough energy to do so. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“We’ve had this conversation.”

“I had it handled.”

“Where?” Using her good hand to push herself upright as much as she could, the brunette wobbled and might’ve toppled out of the bunk if the medic droid hadn’t been there to keep her steady. “You had _nothing_ to fight back with.” God, her mouth hurt. She’d be lucky if her teeth hadn’t been knocked loose by the punch she’d received. “ _You’d_ be dead.”

“Your job is not to save me.”

“And **yours** isn’t to command me.” Cringing against the sting of a needle in her neck, Iza dropped her head back when the warmth of whatever had been in the syringe began to flood her system and drain some of the pain. “You… follow…” _Sweet Maker_ , that felt nice. “ _Our_ orders.”

She could hear him let out a snort and lazily looked at him again. _Man_ —she didn’t know what she’d been given but she wished they’d given it to her at the Temple for her headaches.

“Sometimes, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He smiled at her faintly, _knowingly_. There was an apologetic softness in his eyes and she felt a twinge in her chest. She understood what he was saying, but that didn’t mean he was going to be forgiven that easily.

“You have a mind of your own,” sinking back down onto the flat surface of the bed, Iza looked up when Anakin’s form came into her line of sight. “You should use it next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rex looked up at Anakin this time and smirked, shaking his head before moving to lie down.

Above her, the blue-eyed Jedi looked deeply concerned as he held the bottle of water in one hand and a piece of cloth in the other. He seemed to be waiting for the droid to finish its assessment before he made any attempt to try cleaning her face up, and there was _something_ in his expression that reminded her a little too much of Catcher.

“Stop it,” pushing at him weakly, she sucked in a sharp breath upon realizing which hand she’d used, a loud whimper catching in her throat as she pulled her arm in towards her chest. “ _Kriff the Maker_ ,”

“Scan her arm,” Anakin’s tone was firm and he stepped back to get out of the way, eyes never leaving the other Jedi despite her protest.

“It appears to be fractured.” The medic chirped once it had completed its scan. “Recommended on-board treatment is Patch 7.”

“So do it.”

“As you wish.” The droid scuttled off to fetch the necessary items and Anakin stepped up closer again in its place.

“You’re annoying,” Iza muttered, glaring at him as much as she could. “ _Both of you_.”

“And you’re stubborn,” shaking his head, Anakin propped his hip against the edge of the bunk and folded his arms over his chest. Lowering his voice, he smirked faintly and raised an eyebrow. “I’m starting to see why Catcher likes you so much.”

“Don’t get any fucking ideas, Skywalker.”

“ _Mouth_.”

“Kiss my ass,”

“She hangs out with you guys too much,” shooting Rex a look, Anakin snorted. “A Jedi shouldn’t talk like that.”

“Excuse me,” Obi-Wan poked his head into the conversation and gave Anakin a look. “I seem to recall having to break you of the same habit. Mustn’t be hypocritical, Anakin.”

Smiling weakly, Iza let out a tired laugh and fixed her eyes on the older Jedi.

“How long until we get back to the ship, Master Kenobi?” She wanted to be in her own bed with her _real_ lover beside her. She had a bad feeling that Catcher was going to fuss over her even more than Anakin appeared to be, but at least it’d be a welcomed sort of fussing.

“Not for quite a while, my dear,” he smiled at her and nudged Anakin out of the way when the medic droid came back with the medical supplies. “I suggest you get some rest. I’m sure Anakin will be more than happy to stay with you.”

“Of course,” the younger man didn’t even sound like he was trying to fake it.

She didn’t like that. She didn’t like it at all. But Iza was in no position to argue any further. The droid had taken hold of her injured arm and even though it was attempting to be as delicate as possible, the pressure it used to apply the thick bacta patch made her twist away and shout horribly.

“Please be still,” it buzzed soothingly, trying to hold her arm in place. “I must reset the bones.”

“ _It **hurts**._” She was fighting against everything in her that told her to kick the damn thing in the face. The audible grind and _crack_ that followed the smooth movements of the droid’s fingers over her wrist made her pound her feet against the wall and bury her face in the crook of her good arm to muffle the scream. Even the warmth of the bacta patch that had begun to work its magic hadn’t done anything to quell the throbbing and Iza jerked her arm away once she had been released. Curling up on the bed, she ducked her head and whimpered into the tops of her knees, flinching when someone rested a hand on her back. “ _Don’t touch me_. Go away.”

“I think it might be best to listen to her, Anakin,” Obi-Wan warned.

“Can’t we give her something?” Anakin asked, sounding queasy.

“I’ve already given her a narcotic,” the droid answered, turning to address Rex now that Iza’s major injury had been taken care of. “I’m afraid I cannot give her anything more.”

The solid thump of a boot against the wall followed by a sob drew the young Jedi’s attention back to Iza and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“Anakin,”

“I heard you,” huffing, Anakin stepped away from the bed to follow Obi-Wan back up to the cockpit, dropping down into one of the seats.

~*~*~*~

“ _Mother of the Maker_ ,” Catcher almost dropped his tray when Iza shuffled into the mess hall looking like absolute hell. Setting it down on the nearest table, he crossed the space between them in three long strides and ignored the stares of his brothers as he hovered his hands over her bruised face and tried to take in all of the injuries he could see. “ _What **happened**?_”

“You’re coming with me,” she grabbed the neck of his armor with her good hand and yanked weakly, looking like she absolutely wouldn’t take _no_ for an answer. “Move your ass, Trooper.”

“Yes sir,” he wasn’t going to argue. Marching behind her while she limped her way through the halls of the ship, he threw an arm out to keep her from tripping when she turned too quickly and grabbed her robes when her knees buckled. “ _Iza_ ,”

“I’m fine,” she shook her head and continued walking until they got to the door to her quarters, slapping her fingers down on the panel to open it. “It’s the drugs.”

“Drugs?” stepping in after her, he wasn’t surprised when she waved her hand over the panel and did _something_ to the mechanism to keep others from opening it. “Sweetheart, what—”

“Please take that shit off and sit down. _Please_.” Gesturing to his armor, Iza looked like she might fall over or vomit and Catcher didn’t want to risk any of it. Popping the pressurized closures on his armor plates, he took it all off as quickly as he possibly could and sat down on the bed, grunting when she practically dropped herself onto his lap and buried her bruised face in the crook of his neck.

“Little Bit,” he was afraid to touch her. He didn’t know where she was hurt and how bad. “Please talk to me,”

“I missed you,” her lips brushed his neck when she spoke, sending a light shiver down his back. “I’m not doing that again.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m alive.”

“Sweetheart,” giving a dry laugh, Catcher leaned back to look at her. “That’s not as comforting as you may think.”

“I know it isn’t,” picking her head up to look at him, Iza pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “But it’s all I’ve got that won’t have you running out to rip someone’s head off. I need you right now.”

“You have me,” he wished he could touch her face. The bruising was just so dark that he didn’t want to upset any of it.

That seemed to satisfy her enough. Resting her head on his shoulder again, she shut her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. She just wanted a few minutes to bask in him and _his_ arms. She’d been around Anakin for too damn long and wanted to rid herself of the smell of him stuck in her nose. Despite her warning, the younger man had sat around by her bunk the entire ride back to the ship. When she’d been roused before they’d docked on the starship, she found she’d been covered by his cloak to keep her comfortable. She hated it; she hated that he was taking this _cover up_ business so seriously that his concern seemed **genuine**.

The light slide of a finger down the side of her face made Iza flinch in surprise and she opened her eyes to see Catcher wincing apologetically.

“Sorry,” his lips twisted in a conflicted sort of frown. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” reaching to take his hand, Iza rested his palm to her cheek and hummed quietly. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“It looks like it hurts a lot,” he’d take her word for it, but that wasn’t going to stop him from being as gentle as possible.

“It _did_. I expect what’s left on my face is mostly just cosmetic damage at this point.” She shrugged and offered a tiny smile.

“Please tell me,” his brown eyes were soft and a little too sad for her liking.

“You’re going to yell at me.”

“I would never yell at you.”

Giving a skeptical sort of look, Iza relented.

“I did that thing you told me _not_ to do.”

“ _Iza_ ,” he wasn’t going to yell; that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to _scold_.

“Look, just because Rex betrayed my trust doesn’t mean I won’t save his ass if he needs it.” Scowling, the brunette nestled herself deeper in Catcher’s chest and huffed. “Maybe he’ll figure out where his loyalties lie after this.”

“What are you talking about?” _Betrayed her trust? Loyalties?_

“I didn’t get tapped for that stupid assignment because Anakin needed me to be his beard. I got tapped because _someone_ thinks I’m the reason you’ve been shirking your duties.”

 _Oh_.

“And that _someone_ almost got his ass killed.” She rolled her eyes and made a face. “Then he has the audacity to scold me for doing my _job_.”

Catcher was _not_ going to get into that argument with her again. It didn’t matter whether or not she was beat to hell; he’d learned the first time that she wasn’t budging on the subject. But it didn’t stop him from sighing heavily and giving her a look anyway. When she scowled at him in return, he cracked a smile and kissed the end of her nose. Okay; he’d let her have her way _this_ time, but only because he shared some of her anger towards Rex.

“Do I need to talk to him?” It’d be stupid to do, but he’d do it if she asked.

“No. It’s handled.” Her tone was clipped and cold.

Eying her a little, he leaned back to look at her and squinted.

“What did they _give_ you?”

“I don’t know,” Iza turned her good hand up and shifted around to show him the bacta patch wrapped around her other wrist. “The droid shot me up with something before it even got a chance to look at this.”

“Did you break it?”

“I guess?” she recalled the word _fractured_ being used, but she’d been a little out of it. “I just know it hurt like hell when the stupid droid moved my bones around.”

Catcher looked like he wanted to be sick. He’d seen bones reset before and the sound was no better than the sight.

“How is it now?” he wouldn’t touch it. She seemed to be keeping it close for a reason.

“Tender. Droid said it’ll be about another twelve hours before I’m back to normal.”

“What about the rest of you?”

“Bruising, mostly. This was the worst of it.”

“ _Maker_ , Little Bit,” stroking his thumb against the swell of her cheek, Catcher planted another light kiss to her lips. “No, I don’t think I want you to do that again. Not without me there.”

“You’ll just make it worse.”

Catcher paused the next swipe of his thumb.

“What?”

“They all have your face,” Iza hadn’t meant to let the words slip out, but she hadn’t been able to help it as she gazed up at him. The drugs that she’d been given were _strong_ and still lingered in her system. Had she been willing, she might’ve been able to stave off some of the effects with the Force; she just didn’t have the damn energy for it. “It won’t matter if you’re there or not. _They all have your face_ , Catch,”

 _Stars above_.

“Sweetheart,” he knew what she was saying. He understood perfectly well that she meant his brothers. That was why she threw herself into the line of fire the way she did. Honestly, she wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already suspect, but it definitely didn’t make him feel any better about letting her out on the battlefield alone.

“Can we just lie down? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Of course,” he didn’t feel like talking about it either, honestly. Taking a minute to figure out how the hell to do this without causing her further discomfort, Catcher shifted around on the bed so he could lie back and take her with him. He snorted when Iza simply rolled off and moved around on her own, rolling his eyes with an amused shake of his head. Once they were both as comfortable as they were going to get, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead and sighed quietly.

“Catch?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” scooting around beside him until she was practically laying on top of him, Iza nestled her cheek against Catcher’s chest and looked up at him with tired eyes. His soft smile and gentle touch along her jaw made her nearly forget about what was left of the pain in her body; this was all she cared about. Nothing else in the universe mattered more than Catcher.

“I love you _more_ , sweetheart.” Winking cheekily, he tapped his fingertip against the end of her nose and lifted his head just enough to kiss the crown of her head. “Get some rest. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

~*~*~*~

“How are you feeling?” Anakin had been patient. He’d given Iza the space that Obi-Wan _insisted_ she deserved, and he’d left her alone for the last few days. It helped that he’d been called away on a short expedition to meet with someone so he wouldn’t have time to worry about her condition. But upon his return to the starship, he’d found himself overwhelmed by the curiosity of how she’d healed up. He knew in the back of his mind that he had no business being so concerned. She had Catcher to take care of her, as well as a fully staffed medical bay in case anything _dire_ should happen. But he’d just kept flashing back to watching her drag herself to her feet every time that commando droid knocked her back and threatened to take Rex down permanently. She’d fought so damn hard—it was admirable, really—and was quite _amazing_ to watch when she reached her breaking point.

Maybe that wasn’t something he should’ve enjoyed so much; seeing her rage burn like that was a bad sign and he knew it. But it was the valiance with which she’d fought that he’d found the most alluring. No—they weren’t soldiers; no—they weren’t meant to strike down enemies with such viciousness. But he understood the feeling of not being able to hold back when someone you cared for was in danger, and he couldn’t fault her for it. He also couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it was getting _bad_.

“I’m fine,” Iza shrugged and reached to tilt the holo image of the map in front of her. She had no intention of assisting this particular mission, but she was curious about the planet all the same. “Thank you for asking.”

“I hear you’re fighting to get Catcher appointed as your First in Command.” He looked her over and smirked faintly, stepping up beside her to eye her before setting his gaze on the map. “Do you think they’ll let it happen?”

“I need a Commander for my team,” she wouldn’t even spare him a glance. “The men respect me enough, but I can’t throw out the orders they need. I don’t know all of the terminology like they do.”

“Master Windu is never gonna agree to it.”

“Master Windu doesn’t get to have a say in my matters anymore.” Finally shifting her gaze to his, Iza shrugged and let out a tiny huff of a laugh. “It isn’t his decision to make, anyway. It’s up to the Chancellor.”

“And you’ve sent a plea to him?”

“I have.”

“And?”

A frustrated look crossed Iza’s features before she ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head, reaching to turn the holo projector off.

“I haven’t heard anything. I think he binned it.” _Of course_ he had. The Chancellor had bigger things to worry about than the request of a Jedi.

“I’ll talk to him.” Anakin said, a little too quickly. When Iza looked up at him in surprise, he gave an easy smile and just shrugged. “What? It’s not a problem.”

“ _You_ would go to the Chancellor for me? Over this?”

“Why not? He’s been willing to do smaller favors for me in the past.”

“But this would not be a favor for _you_ , Anakin,” turning to face him properly, the brunette propped her hip against the projector and folded her arms over her chest. “It would be for _me_.”

“It would be for your protection as well.” Turning a hand up, Anakin joined her in leaning against the projector. Iza wasn’t sure what to make of the look he was giving her, but she also didn’t know if she had any right to question it.

“Are you sure you want to?” It felt wrong to let him. But Iza was just desperate enough to try. “What if he says _no_?”

Anakin smiled then—soft and genuine and _warm_ in a way that made her both uncomfortable and strangely relaxed at the same time. Reaching out, he pinched her chin lightly between his forefinger and thumb and winked lightly.

“I don’t think he will.”

The moment he swept his thumb against her bottom lip was the moment Iza knew something was _wrong_ about the situation. Turning her head slightly in what she hoped looked like a shy gesture, she forced a smile and pulled a lock of her hair over her shoulder to twist and tug at. _What the **fuck** Anakin?_

His playful snicker and the nudge to her shoulder had her looking up through her lashes to find him giving her that stupid look of his; the one that was trying to convince her that he was _fooling around_ with her. Right. They were in plain view of everyone, weren’t they? They had to play Pretend and he was just _that good_ at it.

“I appreciate it,” she finally managed to say, flashing a sweet smile at him just for good measure. The hand he swept down her cheek startled her but not as much as the quick press of lips against hers that followed it. _Stars above_ , she hadn’t even seen it coming. Leaning up just to make it seem like she wasn’t entirely shocked and repulsed by the move, Iza pulled back quickly enough and stepped away from him with a nervous sort of laugh. “You’re going to get…” _your ass kicked_. “…reprimanded by Obi-Wan again.”

“Worth it.” _Nope_. She didn’t like that. Didn’t like it one fucking bit.

“Well, _thank you_ , Master Skywalker,” she wished she hadn’t chosen then to lick her lips. He tasted like something smoky and _sinful_. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have… a call to make.”

“So do I.” He gave a nod of his head, still watching her as she backed up out of the room.

Once she was out of the hub, Iza dragged her hand over the back of her mouth until she thought her lips might bleed. _What the **fuck**?_ Hadn’t he promised not to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with? Did he really think that kissing her was _smart_ when her men were milling about, and Catcher was among them? She was hot; overwhelmingly hot.

“Little Bit?”

Catcher’s voice halted her in her tracks and she stared down the hallway to see him giving her a curious look. _Shit_. Had he seen how frantic she was? Could he tell how flustered Anakin had made her? _Maker_ , she didn’t want any of these thoughts floating in her head anymore. Turning to continue down the hall to her private chamber, she felt a smile creep across her lips when he yelled after her again and the sound of his boots on the metal flooring followed. Her hand went out to get the door open and she slipped inside before she was caught, grabbing him by the front of his chestplate and hauling him inside.

“ _What the hell,_ Iza?” he looked worried and outraged at the same time. At least until she started undoing her belt and stripping off the layers of robes she wore.

“ _Off_ ,” flicking her fingers at the armor he wore, she grinned when she heard the pressurized closures pop and he stared at her in shock. “What?”

“What’s gotten into _you?_ ” he wasn’t complaining, but **damn**. This was new. Iza could be quite needy and demanding when she wanted to be, but he’d never seen her so bad off that she’d pop his armor.

“I’m hoping it’ll be _you_ , actually.”

_Motherfu—_

“You,” he wagged a finger as he started stripping off the different plates as fast as humanly possible. “You need to watch your mouth.”

“ _Make me_ ,” she’d gotten down to the last layers, standing in just her boots, trousers and the filmy undertunic she wore to keep everything else from chafing her frame.

“ _Oh_ ,” Catcher’s eyes looked her up and down as he got himself free of the lower half of the armor suit. “Is that a challenge, Little Bit?”

“Might be,” bending to pop the snaps on the sides of her boots and step out of them, she kept her gaze level with his and shrugged. “You think you can take me?”

“You gonna cheat and use those little Force fingers of yours?”

“Nope.”

“I think my odds are pretty good.” When he’d gotten down to the undersuit, Catcher stepped up closer and grabbed the brunette by the front of her trousers, hauling her to him with a low growl. His fingers worked the buttons free while he leaned in and stole a biting kiss, snickering quietly as she ran her fingers along his chest. “Now, what’s got you so worked up? I just had you a few hours ago.”

“I need a reason?” Iza slid her fingers to his waist to find the seam that split the suit into two, pushing it up and humming quietly as she skimmed her palms over his abdomen. “I think seeing you is reason enough.”

“Sweetheart,” running one hand up her torso, the other gave a good tug to her trousers in a silent order for her to get them off the rest of the way. “If that were the case, we’d never leave this room.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“ _You need to **stop** that_.” He was laughing even as he said it, stepping back so she could get out of her pants and he could peel the top half of the undersuit off. The second they’d stripped away the unnecessary bits of clothing, he snatched her around the waist and dragged her over to the bed, dropping onto his back with a grunt and hauling her on top of him. “You’re _such_ a brat.”

Grinning wider, Iza straddled his hips and sat up, brushing her long hair over her shoulder as she raised an eyebrow and put _just_ enough weight down on him to make him growl.

“You’re not much of a challenge,” she taunted, leaning over to press kisses to his bare chest.

“Don’t do it, Little Bit,” he warned, brown eyes blazing as he waited for the rough scrape of her teeth. “Don’t you do it.”

“Don’t do _what?_ ” there was no innocence at all in her expression when she looked at him; she knew exactly what the hell she was doing. He’d corrupted her a little too well. “Poke the beast? What are you gonna do about it? Lay there?”

He gave no reply at all as he slid his hand up the back of her neck and grasped a good fistful of her hair, pulling slowly to give time for her to object if she wanted. When she only gasped and squeezed her thighs against his hips, Catcher sat up on the bed and braced his other palm against her back before rolling her beneath him, effectively pinning her to the mattress. Giving another good tug to her hair before he let go, he hummed thoughtfully and trailed his fingertips down along her neck.

“You can do better than that,” _oh boy_ , she was in a _mood_ , wasn’t she?

“Sweetheart,” grasping her jaw, he leaned over her and gave a nip to her bottom lip. “I’d rather not hurt you.”

“You can hurt me a little,” _now_ she was giving him that too-innocent look and pairing it with a tone that sent shivers down his spine. “I kinda prefer it when you do.”

“ _Iza_ ,” **damn** his voice was getting rough. Did she understand what she was doing to him? “You need to _stop_ that shit, Little Bit.”

“C’mon, Catch,” leaning up, she nipped at his jaw and squirmed underneath him, hooking a leg over his hip to pull him in tighter. “Remember how pissed off you were that day in the hangar? Do you know how _hot_ that was?”

“I’m not pissed off now,” he wasn’t even sure he could get pissed off right now with the way she’d started tugging at his earring like that.

“You want me to piss you off?”

“Not really, no,”

That was just too bad, wasn’t it? Running her fingers up along the back of his neck, Iza lightly scratched her nails over his scalp and shot him another one of those stupidly sweet looks of hers before she spoke again,

“He’s starting to get bold,” this was a _bad_ idea. “I think he’s starting to forget it’s an _act_.”

Above her, Catcher tensed visibly, his muscles bunching beneath his tanned skin.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that he’s getting dangerously close to touching what isn’t his, my love.” She reached up and stroked the side of his face, leaning in and treating him to an absurdly soft kiss to try and soothe the sting she knew her words were leaving. “I won’t let him. You know I won’t.” Except for that kiss; she hadn’t been able to stop that. But Catcher didn’t need to know anything about it— _yet_.

The sound that left Catcher’s throat was loud and _savage_ , his breathing labored as he stared down at her like he’d love nothing more than to get up and go find Anakin to tear him limb from limb.

“Iza,” he sounded strained and fucking _pissed_. “ ** _Shut up_**.”

Both of her eyebrows went up and then knit together when he said it so tersely and a cold sort of ache pooled into her chest. If he’d used one of his little pet names for her, maybe it wouldn’t have stung so much. But he only ever used her first name when he was damn serious and she suddenly wondered if she’d crossed a line here. Yeah—she definitely wouldn’t be telling him about that kiss; she didn’t think Anakin would be the one at the receiving end of his fury if she did.

“I’m—”

Catcher said nothing as he rolled off of her and got to his feet, dragging his hands through his hair and over his face. He looked like he was struggling against whether he wanted to say something or not and Iza was terrified of what it might be. When he finally shook his head and started to gather up his stuff, she sat up and swept an arm out, scattering the armor pieces around the room with a wave of Force energy.

“ _Iza_ ,” he straightened and threw an arm out at her, giving an exasperated look.

“Where are you going?” She didn’t like this. She didn’t like the way the air had shifted in the room. This was supposed to be _fun_. She hadn’t meant to push that hard, and she certainly hadn’t known he’d react like this.

“I need to go cool off.” Bending to pick up one of his gauntlets, he let out a frustrated growl when she moved it to the side again. “ _Dammit, Iza_ , knock that off!”

“No,” she’d shatter the stuff if she knew how. “You can’t go out there right now.”

“ _Why not?_ ”

“Because I can’t trust that you won’t try to cave his head in, Catcher!”

Poking his tongue into his cheek as he stared at her, the Clone let out a tiny laugh and shook his head before pointing at her.

“You started this, Little Bit. I told you not to piss me off.”

“I didn’t know _this_ would be the outcome, Catcher!” Scooting to the edge of the bed, Iza jerked back when the taller man kicked his chestplate aside and sat down in the seat in the corner. Eyeing him for a few moments, she tentatively eased her legs off the bed and touched her toes to the floor. “Are you mad at _me_ now?”

“Fucking **stop** — _Little Bit_ —” he shot her such an angry look that it shut her up immediately. This wasn’t the same thing as before; he was truly upset. “—stop talking.”

Turning away from him so she wouldn’t have to look at that angry face of his—and so he wouldn’t see her crumble into a billion pieces—Iza curled her legs up towards her chest and hid her face behind a hand. The other hand blindly sought out a piece of her hair, twisting it in her fingers and pulling until it made her scalp burn. _What the hell had she done?_ She should’ve picked something else to tell him, maybe said something a little playful instead. Why had she chosen to tell him about Anakin and his strange behavior? _Force_ , it made her sick to know she’d hurt him so bad. This was the last thing she ever wanted to do to him.

“Little Bit,” his voice was a rasping whisper that she barely heard over the sound of her own racing thoughts. “ _Little Bit_ ,”

Tucking her head against her knees in shame over her actions, Iza pulled harder at the lock of hair trapped in her fist and choked on the tears closing up her throat. The bed dipped behind her suddenly, the heavy heat of Catcher’s chest pressing firm against her back as he fought to get at her fingers.

“ _Stop_ ,” prying her hand open with much more difficulty than he’d expected, he grasped her fingers between his and held her to him possessively. “Stop that shit. You know that’s not fair.”

“I don’t know what else to do!” Knocking her head against his in a not-so-gentle manner, Iza wished she could stifle the sound of her own voice. “It was supposed to be a _game!_ I didn’t want to _hurt_ you!”

“Sweetheart,” his mouth was pressed to her ear and he’d pulled her in even tighter, not seeming to care whether or not he might be causing any discomfort. In that moment, they were both so wound up that _pain_ seemed to be the last thing on their minds. “It’s not _you_. Little Bit, for fuck’s sake, it’s not _you_.”

“It _feels_ like it. I can…” she turned and rested her forehead to his, blowing out a shuddery breath. “All I feel is _hate_ and _anger_ coming from you, Catcher. It feels so _pointed_.”

“Not for you, sweetheart,” his lips were rough and wet when they met hers, breath hot against her face as he tried to will his anger away. “ _Sweet Maker_ , Little Bit. This is not for you.”

“It should be,” she felt sick even saying it. “I’m playing along and I can’t stop him.”

The hand holding hers shook free and took hold of her jaw in a rather rough manner, but Iza wasn’t going to fight it. She didn’t even flinch at the bruising pressure he used to hold her in place so he could level their gazes and keep her still.

“ _Stop_ ,” he was still every bit as pissed off as ever, but his voice was so damn gentle it was almost absurd. “That’s enough, do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

The grip he had on her face eased up and an odd look crossed his face before he leaned in and started pressing soft, apologetic little kisses all along her jaw. Murmurs of _I’m sorry_ flooded her ears as he turned her in his arms to make it easier to reach. What was he sorry for? She was so confused.

“I didn’t mean to be so rough,” Oh— _that_. “Hit me next time, Iza. Don’t let me do that.”

She shook her head, bringing her hands up to run them into his hair and cradle the back of his head. She wasn’t going to do that; he hadn’t hurt her, so she had no reason to hurt him.

“No,” shifting on him until she could lean into his chest, Iza brushed her lips over his and curled into him as close as possible. “I won’t.”

“ _Little Bit_ —”

“I’m fine,” there would likely be some bruising later but it was nothing that couldn’t be explained away. She was getting good at making excuses for the lovebites he left on her, so how difficult could _this_ be? “You said you were sorry. I believe you.”

Heaving a sigh, he shut his eyes and settled his forehead to hers.

“Besides,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, not sure if she ought to say what she wanted to say. “It’s—”

“Don’t,” he pressed his finger to her lips and shook his head, giving a weak huff of a laugh. “I’m fucking _exhausted_ after that, Little Bit. Don’t say it.”

Parting her lips to playfully bite at his finger, she smiled when he opened his eyes to glare at her.

“It’s true, though.” No, she wasn’t going to try roping him into rough sex again—not right now, anyway. “It’s… scary, but in a really _good_ way.”

“Well, I’m not a big fan of my temper, sweetheart.”

“It’s not the temper that I like, Catch,”

“Oh, _I know_ ,” tapping the end of her nose with his fingertip, Catcher snorted. “ ** _Brat_** _._ ”

Making a face at him, Iza stole a kiss and raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to be anywhere right now, do you?”

“I haven’t been paged,” gesturing to the armor scattered around the room, he shot her a look. “But I also don’t know if my comm is still active, either.”

“I didn’t touch it. I just moved things.”

“Then no,” Catcher reached up and brushed a bit of hair out of Iza’s eyes, smiling faintly at her. “I don’t have to be anywhere until that comm goes off.”

“So you’ll stay?”

“What do you think?”

~*~*~*~

It hadn’t taken Anakin long to convince the Chancellor to accept Iza’s request for Catcher’s promotion; the old man had a soft spot for him and all it cost was a luncheon with him in the upcoming weeks. He was in such a hurry to give the good news to her that he’d given absolutely no thought as to whether or not it might be inappropriate to visit her personal quarters. The girl seemed to like her privacy, which he supposed he couldn’t blame her for. The door was unlocked and naturally, in his experience from living at the Temple for so long, that meant that it was _okay_ for him to come right on in. Perhaps he should’ve announced himself this time around.

He didn’t see her at first, taking note of the state of the room instead. Bedding was on the floor among scattered layers of Iza’s robes. _That_ should have been his first clue to leave. The second was the Trooper helmet lying near his feet that he’d nearly tripped on.

“ _Anakin!_ ”

Turning towards the door to the private washroom, his blue eyes went wide. Iza stood in her underclothes with a scowl on her pretty face. He supposed she had a right to be angry; he really should’ve knocked. Opening his mouth like he was going to say something, he shut it when Catcher loomed into view behind the brunette. _Boy_ , that man looked pissed.

Putting a restraining hand on Catcher’s chest, Iza shifted in the doorway to put herself between the two _just in case_ and grunted when Catcher wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her back into him. Giving him a look and an annoyed shake of her head, she turned her attention back to Anakin and threw a hand out.

“What do you want?”

He couldn’t stop staring at how tight the other man was holding onto her like that. It didn’t seem to bother Iza very much that her lover’s fingers would likely leave bruises in the flesh they dug into, but the sight left a burning in Anakin’s gut that he didn’t like.

“ _Skywalker,_ ”

“Chancellor approved your request,” his voice sounded distant and he couldn’t stop _staring_. “He’ll get his promotion.”

“Promotion?” Catcher looked confused as he looked down at Iza, who was too busy scowling to notice. “Little Bit, what promotion?”

“We’ll talk,” Iza wanted to get the other Jedi out of the room first. Shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, she leaned back into the man behind her and smiled politely. “Thank you, Anakin. I appreciate it.”

“Uh-huh,” looking between the two, he snorted quietly and offered a cheeky sort of smirk of his own. “You _owe_ me,”

Feeling like she’d been slapped from across the room, Iza let out a soft laugh and just nodded. What the _hell?_ He never said anything about this being a _favor_ before.

“Yeah,”

Not liking the way he looked at her on his way out, the brunette stared at the empty space long after he’d left and only jerked back to reality when Catcher nudged her hip.

“Little Bit?”

“Promotion…” she had to gather her thoughts. There was something about the energy in the air she didn’t like. Like a hot pressure that crackled and licked her skin like fire; it had no scent, but her senses _insisted_ there was smoke nearby. **_Darkness_**. That’s what the sensation was. “You’re… my new Commander…”

“Iza?”

“Something’s… _wrong_ ,” stepping down into the main chamber, she looked around the room and then back at Catcher. “Do you smell fire?”

“No,” he shook his head, suddenly very worried for her. “Iza,”

The weird sensation seemed to be fading off in one direction, the hallucination of scent going along with it. Iza’s skin didn’t feel tight anymore and the air was slowly beginning to go back to normal. _Anakin_.

“Sorry,” rubbing her hand over her face, she turned back and tried to smile at him as brightly as she could. “You’ve been _promoted_ , Catch.”

“I heard you,” coming over to cup her face in his hands and look her over, he kissed her between the eyes and pursed his lips. “What have you done now?”

“I did not ask him to do that.” Pointing to the door, Iza shook her head. “He offered. I don’t know what he means by—”

“Shush,” he silenced her with a kiss. Catcher had done enough talking about Anakin for one night and wasn’t looking to rouse his Beast again. It was bad enough the little bastard had just barged in like that. Had nobody taught him any damn manners in that Temple? “Thank you.”

“You’re still taking orders from me, _Commander_ ,” she gave his chin a little pinch and smiled. “But you’re welcome.”

“Does this mean I go wherever you go, now?”

“Yep.”

“And you did this on purpose just for that reason, didn’t you?”

“ _Yep_.” She looked so damn proud of herself for it, too. “I wonder if they’ll give you that sexy little skirt Rex wears?”

“It _is_ standard for the Commander armor, yes.” Chuckling at her, he shook his head and looped his arms around her waist to draw her close. “But that armor is also _very_ heavy. I’m already carrying an extra ninety pounds with the standard.”

“No wonder you look like this,” eyeing him with a slow grin, she giggled when he tickled her hips, twisting in his hold. “ _Catcher!_ ”

“You’re going to get even _worse_ , aren’t you Little Bit?” He teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “If you think you hate having to wait for this shit to come off now, you just wait until you get antsy while I’m in that damn Commander armor.”

Iza rolled her eyes at him and stole one last kiss before hesitantly pulling away. They _really_ needed to get back out into the general population before someone noticed that they’d been gone for the last few hours.

“We’re going to celebrate, right?” She asked as she gathered her robes to start layering them back on again. “I’m sure you’ll have some things to take care of so I won’t expect anything _immediate_.”

“We can celebrate.” Nodding, Catcher made a face as he tried to figure out where some of the pieces to his armor had gone and shot a look at his lover when the white plates all piled up in front of him. “ _Thank you_.”

“It might be a good idea if I leave first.” She’d already started pulling her tabard on, leaving her own modified armor off for the time being. She wasn’t expected to be pulled into any sort of battle unless they had an attack sprung on them, so she didn’t feel it was a necessity. “I have to make a call to Master Windu anyway.”

“All right.” Nodding, Catcher took the kiss she offered and then cupped her chin to bring her in for a proper on, lightly nuzzling the end of his nose over hers before pulling away with an affectionate smile. “Thank you. Again.”

“Anything for you, love.”


	9. You'll Never Know What Hit You

Iza wasn’t sure if avoiding Anakin for the rest of the journey home had been a good idea. That strange sensation she’d gotten after he left her room—and that _smell_ —had left her with a bad feeling in her chest and she didn’t trust it. It felt suspiciously similar to the way Catcher’s jealous anger felt, just with something _more_ added to it; something deeper that twisted her stomach into nervous knots. He had no right to feel such things. They were playing pretend like a couple of younglings and nothing more. Surely he hadn’t forgotten that? She’d been tempted to mention the odd feeling to Master Windu when she spoke to him, and again to Master Obi-Wan while she sat and hid in the conference room with him—somewhere she knew Anakin wouldn’t come looking for her. But like with most things, Iza had become too anxious that she was overthinking the situation and likely would be chided for believing there to be something wrong with the younger Jedi. It was just a brief moment of jealousy for the situation; he couldn’t have his friend around like she could, and that was all.

“My dear, are you all right?” Obi-Wan startled her out of her thoughts and Iza nearly knocked over the cup of caf she’d been drinking.

“Yeah—I’m good. Thank you.” Smiling tightly, she had a bad feeling he was reading right through her with those sharp eyes of his.

“I’m sensing some very…” it was like he was searching for the right word, but was distracted at the same time. Did she have something on her face? “…conflicted feelings coming from you. Are you sure?”

Propping her chin in her hand, Iza tried not to wince when her fingers pressed into the bruises on her jaw. Maybe she would stop Catcher the next time he did that—or at least not be so placid about the strength behind his grip.

“I’m sorry, Master Obi-Wan. I have a lot on my mind that I’m trying to sort through.” It wasn’t a total lie. She’d been informed that there would now be _more_ meetings and _more_ team training to do with the squad to get her completely up to speed on things. She really hadn’t given enough thought to this whole _General_ thing, had she?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” _Man_ , he looked concerned. Had he learned that expression from Anakin or had Anakin picked it up from _him?_

“Not likely,” should she say something? Anakin _was_ his apprentice, after all. He’d spent the most time with him and would know him better than the back of his hand. Or, maybe he wouldn’t. Obi-Wan wasn’t even privy to the fact that Anakin had a _real_ lover who wasn’t Iza. If he could hide that from his Master, who’s to say that he wasn’t able to hide whatever that dark feeling had been? “But I appreciate the offer, Master.”

He simply nodded and gave her another silent look of concern before turning back to his datapad. _What the hell?_ Was she really radiating that much stress over this? If that were the case, it was a wonder she hadn’t gotten a headache.

That thought started a whole new chain. She hadn’t had a single headache since the day she’d had her ass kicked by the commando droid. Maybe it was the blow to her head? Or her body had just decided that it’d suffered enough for a while and couldn’t bring itself to put herself through more pain. Or—perhaps whatever she’d been shot up with? She’d never had the chance to ask what was in that syringe. Maybe the droid in the Medcenter at the Temple would know if she described the sensations to it.

“We’ll be arriving on Coruscant shortly,” again, Obi-Wan had jostled her from her thoughts. “If there’s anything you need Jedi Tacor, please do feel free to come talk to me.”

There was that kriffing look again. What the hell was he so concerned about? Had he felt Anakin’s strange anger too? Was he worried that perhaps it had been directed at her in some way? He wouldn’t be _wrong_ , but she wasn’t sure it was cause for such concern. Iza could handle herself against the other Jedi if need be and Anakin, while moody, didn’t seem to be very _violent_ off of the battlefield.

“Thank you, sir,” picking up her cup, she drained what was left and got up to gather the things she’d left in her room. She hated having to put the armor back on and decided that next time she’d be bringing a bag to shove it into instead. She’d wandered down to where they’d be offloading, passing her squad and giving a light salute with two fingers. She got a series of wide grins and waves in return and it made her swell with pride. Those men had taken a bit of time to come around, but she was glad that they had. Her Main Five—as she lovingly referred to them as—were the most loyal. _One_ in particular, but the other four were good men who knew more than they were meant to and knew how to keep their mouths shut about it. Her Star Squad. That’s the name they’d given themselves when they’d seen the doodled stars on Catcher’s helmet. It had a nice little ring to it, she thought.

Her eyes sought out Catcher’s in the crowd of Clones and she shot him an affectionate smile when she spotted him. Getting a wink in return, the smile turned damn near goofy and she had to keep moving so she wouldn’t get too flustered. She loved him so much; she really did. Sometimes it scared her how deeply she cared for him, especially knowing that it was _beyond_ forbidden for her to harbor these types of feelings. As long as she kept them hidden well enough, Iza figured she’d be able to get away with it— _maybe_. Now that Catcher would be by her side more often it might be easier to pull off. Her energy would balance out and nobody would get suspicious about any strange spikes in her emotions whenever he came around because it would feel _normal_. Now, if only she could wrangle in her need to sneak away with him every couple of hours, then they’d be set.

Glad to finally be back on Coruscant so she’d have a lot more room to hide from Anakin, Iza had gone straight to the Temple like she’d been requested to. She’d barely made it to the stairs at the front entrance when she felt that heavy darkness filling her chest again and a rough hand clamped down on her arm. It felt like it was being jerked from the socket as Anakin hauled her into his line of sight and flattened her against the side of one of the pillars lining the walkway. His chest wasn’t nearly as heavy as Catcher’s, but he took such a dominant stance over her that it seemed like he’d weighted her down with a boulder.

“Anakin…” she couldn’t breathe. She had half a mind to reach for her lightsaber and either hit him with it or threaten him with it, but her arms wouldn’t move.

“What’s he doing to you, Iza?” His voice had no business being that soft or that concerned. Not when he was staring at her with eyes that were _so damn cold_.

“What?” This was one of those times when she wished the Troopers were allowed in the Temple without needing an escort. And that Catcher had been given his Commander status _sooner_.

“You’ve got _bruises_ all over you,” when he spoke through his clenched teeth, Anakin managed to spray angry spittle into the air and onto her face. “What has he _done?_ ”

 _Oh no_. Now she understood why Master Obi-Wan had been staring so hard.

“Nothing, Anakin. He hasn’t hurt me.” How the hell did she explain that she just had a very _strange_ attraction to being roughed up like this? “It’s not—”

The strength in his cybernetic hand was _terrifying_ as he took hold of her chin and turned her head to inspect the marks on her jaw and the poorly hidden bite marks on her neck. She heard a sound of disgust leave his throat and started to say something when hot lips found hers and crushed them. _No._ She wouldn’t let this happen again. Raising her hands, she beat them against his shoulders and twisted out from his grasp. Lifting one hand higher, she swung back and gave him a sharp slap across the face.

“ _Don’t **fucking** touch me_,” that pressure was off her chest now and it was easier to breathe. But that smell—that smoky, fiery smell—was invading her senses again. That dark feeling was getting _worse_ and put a fear in her that shouldn’t have been there. He only stood there and glared at the ground, but Iza felt like he was about to pounce on her and tear the life right out of her. Where the _hell_ were the guards? She flinched when he turned to look at her, backing against the pillar and shuffling away when he started to move toward her again.

“ _Anakin!_ ”

And then he was being jerked away and that feeling of terror vanished completely. Obi-Wan had hold of his apprentice’s arm and was giving him such a _look_ that Iza had to wonder if he thought Anakin was the cause of her bruising. As much as she’d like to defend him, she hadn’t been a fan of _any_ part of what’d just taken place. The kiss still burned her mouth and she couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her belly he’d left with that cold look in his eye.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Obi-Wan hauled him back further to give Iza as much space as possible.

Anakin looked confused, remorseful and upset all at the same time as he rubbed his free hand over his face and shook his head.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Are you all right, Jedi Tacor?” Obi-Wan’s eyes never left Anakin and he certainly didn’t seem willing to let the man go just yet.

“Yeah,” her jaw was going to be even more bruised than it already was and she felt like she could use a very stiff drink, but she was otherwise unharmed. “I’m fine,”

“Get inside. I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes sir,” she didn’t need to be told twice. Turning to rush inside, she stopped when Anakin called out to her.

“ _Iza_ ,” his voice was rough, but weak. “I’m sorry,”

“You will be.” She muttered, knowing he probably hadn’t heard it. Continuing on her way, Iza didn’t feel safe at all until she was inside and the sense of tranquility that always filled the halls surrounded her. It drained her of the lingering fear and left her weak, causing her to drag her feet a little as she made her way to her personal quarters. She couldn’t cry here; she couldn’t let herself break in the middle of such sacred space. She’d been trying so hard not to let anything consume her while inside of the Temple anymore.

The familiar thrum of her Master’s Force signature made Iza look up and turn her head wildly to try and find him. Half worried he’d approach with more questions and concerns about _why_ she’d requested Catcher to become her Commander, she also felt a strange sense of relief the moment her eyes met his across the hall. His features never shifted but she could read the light concern in his eyes, and it caused her to do, quite possibly, the most childish thing she’d done since she’d been a youngling. Rushing across the floor, Iza threw her arms around his waist like a child, planting her face in his chest and squeezing him in her efforts not to cry.

She could feel his hands hovering over her shoulders like he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Mace was not an affectionate man and he typically discouraged this sort of thing. But she was radiating distress like a bad perfume and it would suffocate him if he let it. Or worse—it would suffocate _her_. Resting gentle hands on her shoulders, he sighed in defeat and shook his head.

“I told you to stay away from that boy,” his tone was neither scolding nor condescending. “Since you were a youngling, I told you to be wary, Iza.”

“I didn’t know,” yes she did. Iza knew just like everyone else that there was something _off_ about Anakin. The older Jedi in the Temple had always talked about The Boy like he was a ticking bomb. Nobody had been sure what to do with him and it seemed that only Obi-Wan had wanted to handle him with gentle hands.

“I want you to focus on your tasks now, Jedi,” Mace gingerly nudged her back, apparently having had enough of the affectionate display. The raise of an eyebrow once he saw her face was the only indication that he’d noticed the bruising. “You have responsibilities. Make those your priority. No more of this.”

“Yes sir,” he didn’t have to tell her twice. Anakin would have to suffer without his cover. She had what she wanted and she would not be repaying any more _favors_.

“Go clean yourself up. The Chancellor has requested your presence.”

“What?” She’d never even _seen_ Chancellor Palpatine before. Not in person, anyway. “What for?”

“I imagine to discuss your request.” _Right_. That.

Blowing out a heavy breath, she nodded and broke her hold on him, taking a good few steps back and bowing slightly. She wanted to apologize for disrupting his personal space, but she figured Mace would excuse it just this once. She’d needed the comfort and he was the closest thing she’d ever had to a father; if she could trust anyone in this Temple to accept such a gesture of affection, it would be him. Even if he did turn into a statue the moment he was touched.

“Would you like an escort?”

_Honestly…?_

“Yes, sir. I think I would.”

~*~*~*~

“Jedi Tacor,” Chancellor Palpatine’s voice dripped with a kind of cheeriness that Iza had a hard time deciphering was genuine or not. He smiled at her from behind his desk and got to his feet, clasping his hands in front of him as he studied her with icy blue eyes. She knew that look; she’d been given it quite a lot recently. “Come, please have a seat.”

“Thank you, Chancellor.” Nodding politely, Iza moved to take a seat in one of the cushy chairs in front of the desk, unsurprised when the man remained standing. He seemed very much like the type to want to be the tallest in the room at any cost. “I was a little surprised by the invitation, sir.”

“Were you?” The tilt of his head reminded her of a curious dog, but the look in his eye was still too _hard_ for any sort of innocence. “Did Master Skywalker not inform you of my request?”

“No, sir,” she hadn’t given Anakin much of a chance to speak, honestly. Maybe he’d meant to tell her when he’d barged in on her and Catcher? “I would like to give my most sincere gratitude for your generosity too, sir. I know my request must’ve seemed out of place, but I—”

“It is not uncommon for a General to find a… _confidant_ within their squads. I assure you, I’ve received many a request similar to yours, Jedi Tacor.” He smiled lightly, his wrinkled face looking almost _kind_. Had it not been for the look in his eyes, Iza might’ve thought he looked like someone’s grandfather. Someone’s very posh, very _direct_ grandfather. “It was Master Skywalker’s insistence that intrigued me, my dear. He spoke quite highly of you and your… capabilities on the battlefield.”

 _Capabilities?_ Had Anakin gone and told this old coot that she had a tendency to lose her head if her Clones were threatened?

“You’re quite spirited, I’m told.”

That was one way to put it.

“I…” she didn’t want to break eye contact; it felt like she might be scolded if she did. “I suppose you could say that, sir.”

“Not very common for a Jedi to allow themselves the benefit of _emotion_ on the battlefield,” he pressed the tips of his fingers together and smiled wider, the look becoming almost sinister in nature. And yet—his tone never changed. “I admire your willingness to fight so valiantly for the Republic, my dear,”

 _Right. The Republic_.

“Thank you, sir,”

“I would like to check in on you from time to time, Jedi Tacor,” he’d started moving around the room, those damn eyes staying focused on her even as he walked around the scattered furniture and eventually settled behind his desk. “I believe you and Master Skywalker make a fine team.”

 _Fuck_.

“Of course, sir,” she was going to be sick. “I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

“ _Good_ ,” the way he’d said it made her skin crawl. She couldn’t explain it; it was just a shift of tone that sent a shiver through her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a meeting to attend and not much time to prepare.”

“Yes sir,” getting out of the seat like she’d had her robes set on fire, Iza wasn’t sure if she should bow or not and gave a half-hearted little nod in his direction before she turned to leave.

“Jedi,” his voice halted her mid-step. “Do take care not to let your losses get to you. They’re only Clones, after all. We can always make more soldiers if we need to.”

Something sparked in Iza’s gut, sharp and fiery hot. The feeling blazed through her veins with such ferocity that it made her blind for a half second. Biting down on her tongue to hold back the comment she wanted to make, she simply nodded again and continued on her way out of his office. Iza’s tunnel vision kept her from noticing those around her as she practically stormed through the Senate building, hands shaking at her sides from the rage she felt.

_How dare he say such a thing?_

This man held power over the entire Republic, and he saw the Clones as _expendables?_ They were just _tools_ to him? Did he not understand that they weren’t just numbers and bodies in fancy armor? They weren’t fucking _droids_ with no brains and no hearts and no _feelings_ ; these were living, breathing _people_. Force, she was so damn livid. She couldn’t see anything in front of her and her hands tingled with the need to just _hit_ something. The only thing stopping her was the fact that everyone in this damn building was important. That, and she didn’t think lashing out at an innocent was a good idea.

“Excuse me,” a soft, _familiar_ feminine voice broke her out of some of the haze and Iza blinked the blurriness out of her eyes to find a brunette just off to the side. She knew this face; Senator Amidala.

“Ma’am,” dropping her head in a quick nod of acknowledgement, Iza dragged her wrist against her eyes and noted the wetness there. _Shit_. When had she started crying?

“Are you all right?” There was _something_ about that voice that pricked at a memory in the back of Iza’s head but she couldn’t quite place it. Surely she’d heard her speaking on the holo-screens in the city before; maybe that was it?

“Yes ma’am,” the anger was slowly starting to fade but the burning in her veins would not cease. “I apologize.”

“For what?” The Senator’s laugh was soft and lilting and almost _too_ kind.

“It’s unbecoming of a Jedi to display such…”

“Emotion?” Padme tilted her head with a smile and folded her hands in front of her. “I assure you, Master Jedi, I will not judge.”

“I’m not—” she didn’t know how to correct her without sounding rude. Instead, she smiled back as best as she could and bowed her head again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Iza?” _Oh, for the love of—_

“I have to go, ma’am. Please have a good day.” Brushing past the senator, Iza prayed Anakin wouldn’t catch up to her before she could get to her escort. Why the _hell_ had she told them to wait at the doors? It was such a dumb thing to do. Such a foolish girl she was sometimes.

“Anakin?” The senator’s voice carried down the hallway after her. “Is everything okay?”

Iza almost tripped over her feet as realization set in and numbed her to the core. _That_ was Anakin’s secret friend. Senator Amidala was—

“Iza,” he’d caught up to her, but his hands were gentle this time when they turned her around to face him. There was no trace of the anger from earlier in the afternoon, although the remorse in his features sickened her. “Wait a minute,”

“I told you not to touch me,” swatting at his hands, she gave him a wary look and glanced beyond him to see Padme watching them curiously. Letting out a quiet laugh, she brought her gaze back to Anakin’s and raised an eyebrow. “Does she know?”

“What?”

“Does she know it’s _me?_ ”

Anakin’s eyes went wide as saucers and he looked like he might drop down dead at her feet. It was hard to tell whether he was worried or angry or _both_ as he stared down at her and mulled over his thoughts, but it was a nice change of pace from the usual arrogance in his stance. She felt quite satisfied knowing she’d knocked him down a peg.

“I’m done with this, Skywalker. _We’re even_.” Keeping her voice low so only he could hear, she did a quick check to make sure the other woman hadn’t come any closer. “I know as much about you as you know about me. We don’t need to continue this.”

“Fine,” his tone was flat and clipped and he seemed too bewildered to argue. “Go,”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Turning on her heel, Iza practically bolted from the building and nearly bypassed her escort guard. She needed to get the hell out of here. She’d heard something about the Clones going to 79’s once Catcher had been given his new status chip and she figured she might as well meet them down there. Dismissing her escort, she wandered out onto the civilian walkpath and kept her eyes out for a taxi. She had no idea where the hell this place even was—she’d been advised to stay away by _several_ parties in the past—and figured that asking would likely get her looked at funny. What would a Jedi need to go to a military-heavy nightclub like that for, after all.

Finally flagging one down, she crawled into the back and muttered her destination, hiding her lightsaber beneath her robes. She almost wished she’d gone back to the Temple to change; she stuck out like a sore thumb in these things and she sort of hated it. Ignoring the wary look she got from the cabbie, Iza tucked herself into a corner and stared out the window. She couldn’t stop thinking about how funny it was that Anakin had been bedding a _senator_ this entire time. And here she’d been worried about whether or not she’d be judged for falling in love with Catcher. The younger Jedi had definitely crossed a boundary much worse than hers. But—the secret was still a secret and no matter how angry she was with him, it would remain that way.

“Here we are, darlin’,” twisting in his seat as he popped the door for her, the cabbie looked at her expectantly and was rewarded with more credits in his palm than necessary. “Have fun,”

Crawling out of the cab, Iza was a little overwhelmed by this place. It was _huge_ , for starters, and extremely loud. There were drunk men stumbling all over the place in various uniforms, some hanging all over women while others used each other for support. One or two of them whistled through their teeth at her but she just ignored them and prepared to make her way inside. The group in front of the doors parted to let her through, but not without some crude words about her appearance. Putting it into the back of her head that they were just extremely intoxicated—and that they were not _her_ soldiers—she stepped into the club and was immediately hit with a blast of music that caused her entire body to buzz.

It was hard to focus in here; there was so much going on in every single corner that all of her senses were bombarded without mercy. She could only rely on her eyes, but even they weren’t reliable with the fog floating around. Catcher and the Stars had to be here _somewhere_. She’d find them and she’d just get damn _hammered_ with them and forget all about the bad things that had happened today. No more burning in her veins, no more urges to strangle Anakin until his head popped, no more _hurt_ ; she was going to relax and have fun and celebrate Catcher’s promotion.

Weaving through the thick crowd of bodies near the bar, she thought she spotted Popper off in a corner. That red tattoo was a damn blessing when everyone else shared the same face. Pushing her way towards him, she paused when she noticed he seemed to be disgruntled about… _something_. Following his line of sight, that blazing heat flooded her body again when she laid eyes on what he’d been looking at.

Catcher sat in a chair looking drunk off his ass, a nervous sort of grin on his face as a Twi’lek girl rode his armored lap without shame. Surprisingly, he kept his hands to himself. It was just his eyes that were staying trained on her, even when she leaned in like she was going to kiss him. Iza didn’t know what sort of force propelled her through the crowd, but she shouldered her way past people without care. When she was close enough, her hand clamped around one of the woman’s headtails and she ripped her right off of Catcher’s lap, tossing her to the ground while the men let out whooping hollers around her.

“ _Get up_ ,” she snarled, watching the blue-green skinned woman try and shake the daze off.

“The _hell_ is wrong with you?” Rubbing her head, the woman looked like she might throw a punch until she saw the lightsaber dangling from Iza’s belt. “Fucking Jedi,”

“ _GET UP!_ ” And up she got with the help of a wave of Force energy that cranked her onto the tips of her toes and made the group around her go dead silent.

“ _Iza!_ ” Catcher’s hands went around her wrists and his chest clumsily hit her back as he struggled to yank her arms down at her sides. Pressing his face against the side of her neck, he growled viciously into her ear, “ _Let her go_ ,”

She was seething. That blistering flood of anger in her veins was focused in her palm and as she tried to close her fist, a second body hit hers and knocked her out of her concentration.

“ _General!_ ” Popper’s voice was loud in her ear. Somewhere in the commotion, she heard the other woman yelling out in pain when she hit the floor. “Get her out of here, Commander!”

Iza felt herself being dragged away and panted heavily as she stared back into the crowd. Popper knelt over the other woman, apparently checking to make sure she wasn’t _dead_. Iza hoped she was. The cool air of the night sobered her a little once Catcher managed to get her out of the back door, followed by Ze and Unk—both of whom looked fucking _mortified_.

“What the _fuck_ was that, General?!” Ze asked, his dark eyes wide with shock.

“Leave her alone,” Catcher was already turning Iza around in his arms, blinking the bleariness from his eyes as he carefully took hold of her face and studied her. “ _Iza_ ,”

“ _Mine_ ,” she sounded like she’d been fucking drugged, and she looked it too. Her pupils were wide as hell and in this light her irises were damn near gold. “You’re… _mine_.”

“Yes sweetheart,” he nodded furiously, not willing to argue with that look in her eye. He’d never seen that kind of rage in her before. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t relate, he just couldn’t imagine how she’d let it get to her like that. “I’m yours.”

“ _Commander_ ,” Unk sounded like he was getting pissed. “Did you not—”

“ _I saw_ , Unk. I fucking saw. The whole damn room saw!” Waving a hand, he kept the brunette close to him with the other arm and shot the man a look. “What the hell do you want me to do? Put her over my knee?”

“She could’ve killed her,” the other Clone growled, warily eyeing Iza. “They’re not supposed to do shit like that.”

“Everybody gets mad, Unk. _Everybody_.”

“So we’re just supposed to shut up about this too?” Ze folded his arms over his chest and glared. “You don’t want us to tell anyone that your little bangpiece almost _murdered_ someone over a lapdance?”

“What?” Iza looked between the Clones and then up at Catcher. “ _What?_ ”

“It was a gag gift, _General_ ,” Unk muttered, giving her a hard look. “That woman had no interest in Catcher that wasn’t monetary.”

“Why would you…?”

“ _He_ didn’t. _We_ did.” Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he looked ashamed for about two seconds before anger crept back into his features. “ _Someone_ neglected to tell us you’d be showing up, or else we never would’ve done it.”

Shutting her eyes against the wave of nausea that’d replaced the rage, Iza blew out a breath and turned away so she wouldn’t have to look at her men anymore. She wasn’t sure if it was shame or remorse for her actions that was making her so sick, but _man_ —she was getting dizzy.

“Sweetheart?” Catcher’s liquor-laden breath was warm on her face when he spoke. “You don’t look so good.”

“How is she supposed to look? She just tried—”

“ _Shut up_ ,” pushing away from Catcher, Iza pressed her palm to her eye and rubbed to try and clear some of the haze. She turned at the sound of the door opening again and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not when Popper and Karver came strolling out giving her the same wary looks.

“Well?” Catcher folded his arms and tried not to sway in his spot.

“She’ll live,” Popper muttered, eyeing Iza coldly. “You’re lucky, General. Most of those people are too drunk to know what happened.”

“What about the ones who aren’t?” Ze piped.

“Do you _really_ think any of our men are going to go to the Council about an incident like this?” Karver rubbed the back of his neck and let out a bitter laugh. “She didn’t kill anyone and… for all anyone knows, she’s just someone’s jealous girlfriend. Half those people didn’t even see the fucking lightsaber. She’s safe.”

“What about—”

“She’s been paid enough to stay quiet.” Popper took a few steps towards Iza and ignored the way Catcher tensed when he reached out and lifted the Jedi’s chin. He didn’t say anything as he stared deep into her eyes like he was _looking_ for something, eventually dropping his hand and backing off before his brother could leap onto his back for touching her. “I don’t want her on the battlefield for a while.”

“ _You_ don’t get a say in that.” Iza snapped, narrowing her eyes. “ _I’m_ the one—”

“I’ve seen that look in a Jedi’s eyes before, General. Another outburst like this and there’s no going back for you. I won’t serve under someone who uses the Dark Side of the Force.” He shook his head and snorted. “Not again.”

_Dark Side?_

“What exactly are you accusing her of, Pop?” Catcher’s possessive arms went around Iza’s waist again, holding her to him protectively.

“I’ve been around longer than you, kid,” pointing a finger, Popper shot him a warning look. “I’ve seen some terrible shit. There’s a reason they don’t train these Jedi to be soldiers. There’s a _reason_ they’re not supposed to have emotional attachments, Catcher.”

“You don’t fucking complain when I’m crushing clankers with my bare hands,” Iza spat, sinking back into Catcher with a huff. “Those are _not_ Light Side powers, but you’ve _praised_ me for them.”

“You have _control_ in those situations, General Tacor,” Popper looked irritated now. “You don’t have the same look in your eye that you do now. If I ever thought you were a danger to yourself or to us when you were out there with us, I’d have you removed. Only now do you have me worried.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” eyeballing the bottle Karver held tight to, Iza waved her fingers at it. Looking between the Jedi and the bottle, Karver cautiously handed it over and was surprised when she took it from him gingerly instead of snatching it. He was even more surprised when she drank from it like a woman who hadn’t had a drink in weeks.

“ _Careful_ with that,” pushing her hand down, Catcher took the bottle and handed it back to his brother. “Little Bit, _I get it_ , but— _please_.”

“I want to leave,” _man_ , that shit burned. It tasted like starship fuel, too. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“You can’t take her back to the Temple looking like that,” Popper gestured towards her disheveled appearance. “They’ll know _immediately_.”

“When did you become such an expert on the Jedi?” Karver asked, making a face when his bottle was taken from him again. “I was going to drink that, thanks.”

“Buy another one,” taking credits out of her back pouch, Iza dropped them into his hand and shrugged out of Catcher’s hold to start walking around the building. “ _Catcher_ ,”

“Just—hold up, Little Bit,” he hesitantly took a few steps forward before looking at Popper for the answer. “Well?”

“I told you,” the tattooed man’s eyes followed the Jedi who’d neglected to listen and just kept walking. “I’ve seen this before. Keep a good eye on her, Commander. Don’t let that temper get the best of her.”

“Yeah,” nodding, Catcher frowned and looked around at his brothers for a long moment before jogging to go catch up with Iza. He found her standing near a bunch of speeders parked at the front, sipping from the stolen bottle. Slipping his arms around her waist, he carefully blanketed her lightsaber with a panel of her robe and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she answered, tilting her head to rest it against his. “I’m sorry,”

“Sweetheart,” he laughed quietly and gave her a squeeze. “You know I understand.”

“They don’t.”

“No, you’re right. They don’t understand.” Turning to kiss the side of her head, he sighed. “But they’re good men. They’re only looking out for you.”

“I know.” Taking another pull from the bottle, Iza wrinkled her nose and looked down at the label. Was this supposed to be some sort of whiskey? “This tastes like garbage.”

Chuckling in her ear, Catcher nuzzled and kissed it affectionately before reaching to take the bottle from her for a quick pop.

“That’s the cheap stuff.” Grimacing, he shook off the disgusted shiver that followed and held the bottle away when she reached for it. “You need to slow down, Little Bit. Tiny thing like you—this will put you down quick.”

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“Celebrating. Not getting dead drunk.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Mm—” taking a second to swallow down the mouthful of liquor he’d just taken, Catcher nodded and smirked at her. “There’s a _big_ difference. See, _celebrating_ insinuates that I’ll have fun, which I’d still like to do if you’re up for it.”

“You’re not angry at me?” Turning to face him, Iza tilted her head at him. Honestly—she was sure he’d be the most livid out of the group. Lover or not, Catcher was the closest to her and stood to lose the most if she tipped the scale too far. How could he be so damn… _placid?_

“Sweetheart,” the smile he gave was positively lecherous and it made a brow rise high on Iza’s forehead. “Do you think you’re the only one who suffers from that little _kink_ of yours?”

 _Oh_.

“Thank the Maker for the crotch guard, eh?” Reaching out, Iza tapped two fingers against the piece of armor protecting his pelvis and grinned at him slowly, studying his face with new eyes. “Bet the boys would be _real_ proud to see what that fuss really did to you.”

“ ** _Brat_** _._ ” Leaning in, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips and likely would’ve hauled her back around the building if she’d let him. But she’d pulled away long before he’d been satisfied by the kiss and left him frowning in frustration while she went to hail a taxi. Taking a deep pull from the bottle in his hand, Catcher tossed what was left in a nearby bin and followed after her, leaning up against her back and sinking his teeth into the edge of her ear with a growl. “We’re going to the same place as before, right?”

“Of course,” she seemed to be trying to resist the temptation he presented her with, but he could tell the alcohol in her system was weakening her resolve just a _little_. “Catch, _behave_.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Not smart to challenge her while they were standing near the literal edge of the city, but he couldn’t help himself. He was still nice and drunk and now he was horny on top of it. Did she expect him to act like his professional self?

“I will _break_ you,” smiling sweetly, she tilted her head back and nipped the curve of his jaw, earning quite possibly the most arousing groan she’d ever heard from him. “ _My goodness_ , Catch,”

“Promise?” Burying his face in her neck, he squeezed her waist again and bit down on an already bruised portion of her throat.

“Only if you promise to return the favor.” Reaching up, Iza ran her fingers through his hair and gave a gentle tug, snickering at the sound he made. _Boy_ , he was worse than she was, wasn’t he?

“Oh sweetheart,” picking his head up when he heard the taxi pull up to the curb, he nudged her toward the door when it opened and gave another kiss to her neck before breaking away. “ _I promise_.”


	10. Concealing the Violence

The days that followed were relatively uneventful for once. Aside from a bit of battlefield training—which had nearly been postponed thanks to a certain _someone_ on the Star Squad—and a quick meeting with the Chancellor, nothing thrilling had happened for Iza. Truth be told, she was grateful for the small window of peace she’d been given since it allowed her time to get herself in check. She hadn’t taken Popper’s accusations lightly, after all. She knew in her heart that he was right to be suspicious of her behavior the night in the club, but only because _she’d_ felt the darkness he’d seen in her eyes. He still hadn’t revealed which Jedi he’d served under, and he hadn’t explained how he’d found out either. But at least he seemed to trust her again by the end of the week— _mostly_. She had a feeling he’d always be a little wary now that he’d seen the cracks in her resolve, and she wouldn’t fault him for it. Some of the other Squad members had joked that she’d made the wrong man her Commander, but even Popper disagreed with that. He seemed to think that if anyone could keep a grip on Iza and her temper, it was Catcher.

He wasn’t wrong.

The morning Iza was due to assemble them to go over some tactical plans, she found herself being tailed by a rather _persistent_ Jedi. She’d been doing everything she could to avoid Anakin for the last few days, going so far as to keep close to others in the Temple so he’d have no chance to get her alone. But Catcher wouldn’t be able to meet with her until she got closer to the walkpath at the entrance of the Temple and nobody had been heading out this morning. Iza had been forced to weave in and out of the pillars and cut through the garden in the hopes of finding _someone_ who could escort her out under the guise of just wanting to chat. No such luck.

She felt him coming up behind her before he had a chance to reach out and grab her and she ducked out of his grasp, whirling to draw her lightsaber in warning.

“ _What_ do you want?” She couldn’t ignite it here; the Temple guards would come running at the sound and she didn’t have time for this.

“To talk,” Anakin had both hands up and a frustrated look on his face. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week, Iza.”

“I told you,” she took a few steps back to put more space in between them. “I’m done with the arrangement, Skywalker. You have no reason to speak with me anymore.”

“How did you figure out it was Padme?” _Ah_ —that’s what he wanted.

“I heard her that night in the hostel,” clipping her lightsaber back to her belt, Iza rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “I’m still not going to say anything if that’s what you’ve been worried about. I have no ill intent towards you, Anakin. I just want to be left alone.”

“Is he still putting his hands on you?”

“Stars above,” rubbing her temples, the brunette licked her bottom lip and shot him a look. She had a choice to make here; she could either tell him that what she and Catcher got up to was _consensual_ , or she could just walk off and leave him to think that her lover had a problem. Yeah—option A was the best bet. “I’ve got a thing for _pain_ , if you must know. Not everybody enjoys _softness_ in their lovemaking, Anakin.”

He looked a bit flustered for about a half-second before his features hardened again and he frowned.

“You’ve been meeting with the Chancellor,”

“You’re _nosey_ ,”

“He doesn’t usually take an interest in Knights who aren’t Masters,” Anakin looked her over suspiciously, as if silently questioning what she’d done to earn the old man’s attention. “Padme tells me you were in his office for quite a long time the other day. When you left, you were in tears. What happened?”

“Nothing. Just something he said.” She really didn’t want to think about it. She was already running late. “Must we stand here and do this, Anakin? I have things to do.”

“I’ll walk with you, then.”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” shaking her head, Iza cast a glance towards where she was due to meet Catcher and made a face when she saw he hadn’t shown up yet. “I’m meeting my squad. Catcher should be here soon.”

“He’s got a bad temper for a Clone. He seems excessively possessive.”

Letting out a laugh, the brunette shot him a pointed look.

“ _You’ve_ got balls saying something like that, Skywalker. Need I remind you of your behavior the last time we saw one another? One would think you’d started to develop feelings for me during our little _act_.”

The fact that he fell into complete and utter silence after that statement said everything she ever needed to know. The amusement bled from Iza’s features and was replaced with a look of disbelief, a strange sensation pooling in her gut and spreading to her lungs; it squeezed painfully and made it hard to breathe. _Oh, **Force**._

“I have to go,” turning on numb legs, she gave a weak little wave and started to walk away again when he pulled her back with a wave of Force energy. The minute his hands physically touched her, Iza’s fingers were wrapped around her lightsaber again and this time, she clicked it to life and blindly swung out. The blue plasma hummed loud over her head as she let out a shout of outrage and Anakin let go, allowing her to twist and drop into a defensive stance.

“Iza,” there were bits of hair scattered over his tabard and he looked beyond startled. Reaching up, he fingered the lock she’d managed to shear off and made a face at her, “ _Really?!_ ”

Pointing the end of the blade at him, Iza tried to ignore the way her hand was shaking and breathed harshly through her nose.

“How many times must you be told?” The feeling in her stomach had sparked into that fire she wasn’t supposed to touch, but she couldn’t help it. “ _Don’t. Touch. Me._ ”

“Why won’t you listen to me for once?!” he took a step closer and jerked his head back when Iza jabbed the lightsaber at him. _Okay_ —he wouldn’t do that again. He had half a mind to draw his own weapon but he wasn’t here to fight her. He sincerely just wanted to talk. “You always run off. You never give me a chance.”

“There is no _chance_ for you, Anakin,” she didn’t feel like letting him plead any sort of case for his _feelings_. He’d try to say she’d led him on somehow when she’d done nothing of the sort. In fact, she’d been as cold as she could possibly be and he’d still been persistent. But, there was _one_ thing she was curious to know. “When? When did you start this shit, Anakin?”

It was his turn to laugh, running a hand through his hair and shaking more of the loose bits free from his fingers with a wrinkle of his nose.

“I’m not in love with you, if that’s what you’re so worked up over.” That damned arrogant smirk of his was going to get him punched one of these days. “But you know—seeing someone get their face bashed in by a commando droid will really twist how you feel about that person.”

“You had no right—”

“It _scared_ me, Iza!” he took another step towards her and glared down at the lightsaber she was still waving in his face. “You have no idea what you looked like after that was all over, do you? Rex never told you how bad it was.”

“I was _drugged_ , Anakin,” powering the lightsaber down with a press of her thumb, Iza figured it wasn’t worth wasting the energy to keep it lit. She could always knock him out with the hilt if he tried to get closer. “All I remember is being in a lot of pain and your stupid face looking at me the whole time.”

“You can’t fault me for being concerned!”

No, she couldn’t. But that didn’t mean she had to accept any of what had followed. _Yes_ , she was grateful to him for what he’d done to get Catcher his promotion—even though it meant she had to meet with that strange Chancellor on occasion now—and she _still_ wouldn’t say anything about his secret affair with Senator Amidala, no matter how angry he made her. But his actions—the _jealousy_ —had been so uncalled for that she just couldn’t accept or excuse any of it.

“Concern shouldn’t come in the form of forced kisses, Anakin,” straightening, she worked her jaw and watched his features soften. “ _Concern_ does not bring looks of fury when you see me with the man my heart belongs to. I _felt_ that hatred in you, Anakin. I _smelled_ it in the air. You had no right to be that upset and you know it.”

“I thought he was hurting you,” his voice was gentler but he seemed unwilling to lose that hint of stubbornness that made her want to throw something at him. “You had _bruises_ , Iza. Master Obi-Wan accused _me_ of putting them there. How do you think I felt?”

“I will happily speak to him and clear things up if that is what you want, but you _must_ stop this.”

“What will you do if I don’t?”

“Excuse me?” Pausing in the middle of holstering her lightsaber once more, Iza knit her brows together and leaned away from him. If he took one more damn step towards her, she was going to run.

“What if I can’t? It’s unfair to tell me that I’m not allowed to worry for you.”

“You worry for the wrong person, Anakin,” shaking her finger at him, the older Jedi gave a quick glance over her shoulder to check again for Catcher. Where the _hell_ was he? “I am not—”

“Iza, _please_ ,” the sound of his boot moving against the concrete set her instincts on edge and Iza lashed out, grabbing him by the front of his robes with an invisible hand and hurtling him back several feet. He landed with a heavy grunt and skid along the ground, hissing when his back hit one of the pillars. Picking himself up, Anakin stared at her in disbelief, letting out another one of those clipped laughs. “ _Really?!_ Come on, Iza!”

“Come closer and I’ll hurt you.” She didn’t want to. She hadn’t even wanted to do _that_. She just felt like she had no choice with how damn persistent he was. “Don’t make me, Anakin. Please don’t make me.”

“ _Little Bit!_ ”

The relief that flooded her nearly brought her to tears and she shot Anakin such a filthy smile of triumph as Catcher ran up behind her that she was rewarded with a scowl from the younger man. Turning to face him when he reached her and pressed a hand to her lower back, Iza leaned into the Clone’s side and nudged him.

“We need to go,” her voice was rough from the emotion caught in her throat. She didn’t want to stay here and deal with Anakin anymore. “We’re late.”

Catcher didn’t need to be told twice. Looking every bit like he was just escorting his General away from the other Jedi, he kept his hand where it was and waited until they were completely off the Temple grounds before he tried to talk to her.

“What the _hell_ was that about?” He asked, nudging her face up so he could inspect her eyes. Popper had warned him to keep a close watch on their color; any slight shift indicated that she’d played with powers she wasn’t supposed to. “All I saw was the kid fly in the air.”

“He kept antagonizing me,” jerking her head away, she swatted at his hand and gave him an annoyed look. “I’m _fine_. I didn’t hurt him. He scared me.”

The fingers at the small of her back pressed in lightly, and then relaxed. Beside her, Catcher exhaled sharply through his nose.

“What did he do?”

“He didn’t touch me. He couldn’t get close enough.” A slow smirk curled the corner of Iza’s lips before she winced. “I may have swung the lightsaber at him.”

“ _Iza_ ,”

“Look—” stopping in her tracks, the brunette turned to look up at him with a tired expression. “I did this as _peacefully_ as I could, Catch. Considering the way he makes my blood boil, I think I did a pretty damn good job. He just… has spatial boundary issues.”

Sighing, Catcher found he didn’t have much to say about that. She was right; she’d done her best to resolve the issue with as little fuss as possible and it wasn’t entirely her fault that she’d had to use force like that. If the man wanted to be stubborn, then he’d just have to suffer the consequences. Catcher just didn’t want anyone at that Temple to _sense_ anything that wasn’t supposed to be there. He didn’t know what he’d do if she was cast out because of something like that.

“Stop,” she gave a solid pat to the front of his armored chest, almost pouting when he looked over at her. “I can _feel_ all of that, you know. Stop worrying.”

“ _Okay_ ,” he offered a faint smile in apology and would’ve kissed the side of her head if they weren’t about to reach the compound. He’d already dropped his hand away from her back and taken up a more professional distance from her, something he was trying to get used to. But hey—at least he was allowed to be at her side without getting looks from his brothers anymore.

“Thank you,” her smile was affectionate and soft, the light kick she gave to his boot playful. “Come on. I feel like we’re going to be greeted by a _very_ grumpy bunch of men if we’re any later than we already are.”

~*~*~*~

“Excuse me,”

Iza had stepped out of the Chancellor’s office fresh from another meeting that had left her feeling conflicted about her thoughts on the man, only to be greeted by the soft voice of Senator Amidala. Catcher was just down the hall waiting for her, but it seemed extremely rude to just bypass her. So Iza steeled herself against the bubbling anger in her chest and offered a polite smile to the other woman.

“Senator,” she nodded her head in a respectful greeting. “Hello,”

“You’re… _Iza_ , correct?” Padme’s smile was kind and genuine, if not just a tad curious.

“I am, ma’am.”

“I’ve seen you in here a few times now,” gesturing to the closed door leading to Chancellor Palpatine’s office, Padme then waved for her to walk alongside her. “You’re Anakin’s friend.”

 _Friend. Sure_.

“Yes, ma’am,” she hoped that she was meeting Catcher’s eyes through that stupid helmet. It was always so hard to tell.

“You needn’t be so formal,” laughing, the other woman rested a hand lightly against Iza’s arm and flashed another pretty smile. “I only wanted to ask you if you were doing okay. You seemed so upset the other day and it seemed to bother even Anakin.”

 _I’m sure it did_.

Taking a deep breath, Iza pressed her lips together and stared at the carpet beneath her feet for a long moment before she shook her head.

“It was just something the Chancellor said, is all. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm by it. A lot of people share the same sentiment,” _ugh_ , that burning was starting up again. Like an acidic sort of fire that started in her gut and spread to her chest within seconds. “He told me… not to worry about my _losses_.” She couldn’t keep from checking for Catcher’s whereabouts; she still hadn’t mentioned this to him. Her eyes stayed trained on him longer than necessary when she’d spotted him again. “He said we could always make more.”

“Clones?” Padme’s brown eyes followed where Iza’s line of sight was pointed, but her soft expression never changed.

“They’re _people_. I don’t understand why so many others don’t understand that. They’re not _numbers_.” Iza’s brows creased lightly in thought, her features going sad. “They’re not just…”

A gentle squeeze to her arm had Iza looking back at the Senator to find her smiling sympathetically— _knowingly_. Either she could tell just by the way she looked at Catcher that there was something _more_ there, or she’d been told something that was supposed to be a secret. No matter; it wasn’t like Catcher didn’t know Anakin’s secret. He just didn’t know the finer details.

“I understand, and I share your opinions, Iza. The way the Clones are treated is… abysmal, at times. They are not just soldiers and they deserve much more than we’re currently able to give them,” Padme’s eyes shifted between the two again and settled back on Iza. “I want you to rest assured that there are _plenty_ of others who support your beliefs, Iza. We are working to make sure the Clones receive all of the necessary resources they need—now, and _after_ the war is over.”

She wanted to cry. Iza wanted to break down right here in this busy hallway and just sob until she couldn’t produce tears anymore. How many times had she wanted to hear someone say they supported the things she said about the Clones? Why had it taken _so long_ for her to find even _one?_ Even the Jedi, who were very respectful towards the Clones in their care, often treated them like replaceable figures. Why hadn’t Anakin said that his lover was such a sweet soul? Perhaps Iza would have been more inclined to continue the arrangement had she known Padme was so _pure_ of heart.

“Thank you,” she probably shouldn’t have taken hold of Padme’s hand as tightly as she had, but hugging her seemed out of the question. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear this.”

“I have an idea,” her secret smile and the quick glance towards Catcher was all Padme needed to give as confirmation that— _yeah_ , she definitely knew.

“General Tacor,”

Iza jumped a little when Catcher’s voice startled her and she reflexively turned to smack his chest.

“Don’t _do_ that, Catch!” her face flushed when she realized her mistake and she quickly tucked her hands behind her back and turned to Padme once more, giving a deep bow. “Ma’am, I appreciate you setting my mind at ease.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Padme seemed to be fighting a grin. “If you would like, perhaps the next time you’re here to visit the Chancellor—if I am not busy—you’d like to talk more?”

She really didn’t need to think about it.

“Yes ma’am. I think I’d like that a lot.”

~*~*~*~

“How’s your hand?” Catcher teased as he walked beside Iza, occasionally moving out of the way for an oncoming pedestrian.

“It’s fine,” she’d grown used to smacking the armor. “I’m sorry for that, by the way. You just scared the life out of me.”

“I’m surprised I was able to do that.” Coming up alongside her again, Catcher popped his helmet off to properly look at her. “You looked upset.”

“I’m all right now, thanks to Senator Amidala.” She was grateful for it, too. Iza was getting tired of leaving the senate building with her blood on fire. “She gave me a little piece of reassurance that I’ve been needing, especially lately.”

“Can I ask what sort of reassurance that is?”

“That I’m not the only one in the universe who gives a shit about you and your brothers.” Shrugging, Iza kept her gaze pointed forward. “I _knew_ I couldn’t be the only one, but it sure feels like that sometimes. Especially with the attitudes of some of the people around me. Getting so mad at me for not wanting to bring back black bags, and for protecting you while still getting the job done. It’s nice to know that someone else wants something _more_ for you than just… _this_.”

“This?”

“Catch,” stopping, Iza turned to look at him and hesitantly look his hand in hers. “You _know_ what I’m saying. I know how proud you and your brothers are to be soldiers. I don’t want you to take my words as me wanting to take that away from you. But this war _will_ end one day, and you will all be faced with a very difficult question of where to go from here. It just… made me comfortable knowing there’s someone in that building who has _your_ interests and needs in mind. That’s all.”

“I understand, Little Bit,” he smiled warmly at her, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I suppose it’s just not something most of us think about—the war ending, that is. But it’s nice to hear good things coming out of that building, for once.”

She wished they weren’t standing in the middle of a busy walkpath. Iza wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment and settling for a squeeze of the fingers just wasn’t cutting it. Funny how having him appointed as her Commander was supposed to keep him close to her, but forced them to remain at the same distance they’d been at the start. There was a lot less sneaking around now and fewer stares from people when they were seen together, but the affectionate gestures and displays had to be toned down until they were truly alone. It pained her not to be able to let him touch her face when he _knew_ she wasn’t doing well, and not being able to kiss him was torture. But at least he was there. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

“Get out of the way, _Clone_ ,”

The solid _thud_ of someone’s shoulder purposely colliding with Catcher’s was followed by the hollow clatter his helmet made when he dropped it, and made Iza snap out of her pleasant thoughts. That acidic sensation was back, followed by a rush of _hate_ for the person who’d just shoved Catcher aside like he wasn’t important. There was a single twitch of her fingers, then a tight clench of her fist and the man stopped in his tracks, grasping at his chest as he grunted in pain. He looked for all the universe like he was succumbing to some sort of heart failure. He crumpled in a heap on the ground and a shout of horror rang out, as well as shouts for medical assistance. Iza could hardly hear any of it through the rush of blood in her ears. An arm threw itself around her waist and dragged her away without a single protest from her and once they’d gotten out of the crowd, Iza felt her back press against something solid and rough while firm fingers took hold of her face.

“ _Iza_ ,” Catcher’s voice was warped in her ears and it took a moment before his face came into focus. “ _Dammit, Little Bit,_ ”

“Don’t hit me,” she didn’t know why those were the first words she chose to say; maybe because of the look in his eye.

“ _Maker_ , Iza,” he blew out a heavy breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not going to… _what did you just do?_ ”

Had she done something? She couldn’t remember. Her body felt oddly drained and shaky and the look on Catcher’s face made a sick sense of dread settle in her chest.

“Catcher?”

“Iza,” he brought his other hand up to gently cup her cheeks in his hands, stroking his thumbs against her skin as a very serious expression bled into his features. “You need to be honest with me right now.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” she’d been _angry_. So damn angry. She really hadn’t _meant_ to do it; everything had just been building so much over the last couple of weeks that she just hadn’t been able to help it. “Catch, did I…?”

“He’s dead, Iza,” the man wasn’t going to lie to her. “He’s dead.”

She shoved him off of her and twisted away so she wouldn’t be sick all over him. In between the hard heaves of her stomach, she wondered if this was it; would she walk into the Temple and immediately be thrown right back out? Would they somehow just _know_ that it was her? If she carried her guilt around like a shining badge of shame, they would. She _honestly_ hadn’t meant to kill the man. She hadn’t even meant to hurt him. His tone and his behavior towards Catcher had just caused something inside of her to snap so brutally that she had reacted before she could think. This wasn’t the same as her behavior on the battlefield; at least there, she had more control.

“Sweetheart,” Catcher’s hands were in her hair, holding it back from her face. “What can I do?”

She didn’t know. Was there anything they _could_ do? Part of her said to go to the Stars and see if there was something they could come up with, but then she remembered Popper’s warning. He wouldn’t serve under someone who used _Dark Side_ powers and this was as dark as it got. Hell, even her actions at the club had been _mild_ in comparison to this. At least that woman had walked away with her life. They certainly couldn’t go to the Temple for assistance. Not a single soul in that place would be willing to help. They were truly on their own.

“We should…” _what?_ What the hell were they supposed to do? “ _Run_.”

“What?” Watching as she straightened and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her robe, Catcher wasn’t sure what to make of that idea. “What do you mean _run_ , Little Bit?”

“We don’t…” she wished she could stop shaking so much. “We don’t have anywhere to go, Catch. _I_ don’t have anywhere to go.”

“You can stay at the base,” he insisted, running his fingers through her hair. “Nobody has to know.”

“They’ll ask questions.”

“We’re due to leave for an assignment in the morning anyway,” _Force_ , that was going to be a nightmare now. “Nobody is going to question a _General_ in the barracks.”

“We usually stay in—”

“I know, Little Bit. I know the protocol.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek again, rubbing the flushed swell slowly. “But I think Rex would make an exception.”

“He’s made too many exceptions for me.” Letting out a ghost of a laugh, Iza dropped her head and shook it.

“He also owes you his life, Iza,”

“He owes me _nothing_.” Fixing him with a hard look, the brunette exhaled harshly through her nose and stepped away. The smell of the alleyway was starting to make her nauseous again.

“Please don’t fight me, Little Bit,” his hand was gentle when it curled around her arm. “I want you to be safe. I know you’ll be safe with _me_.”

“But will _you_ be safe with _me_ , Catch?” It hurt her to even say it and Iza refused to look at him; at least until he was standing in front of her and forcefully pulling her gaze to his.

“Don’t do that,” he shook his head, the fingers resting on her jaw pressing in _just enough_ to sink the words into her head. “You knock that shit off right now, Iza. You know better.”

“Catcher,” letting out an exasperated breath, Iza stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum and shut her eyes tight. “I just—”

“I know.” His lips met her forehead and lingered there. “ _I know, Little Bit_.”

“I’m scared, Catch,” leaning into him, she tensed up when his arm went around her but only because they were still in such a public space.

“I am too, sweetheart,” it took a lot for him to admit it, but he couldn’t lie to her. He was more worried about what was going to happen to _her_ if someone found out that the man in the street hadn’t just keeled over from natural causes. The idea of her being cast out from the Jedi Order was terrifying to him, if only because he wouldn’t know how to protect her once he was no longer allowed to.

“Do you really think Rex will let me stay?” Iza asked after a short while, her voice muffled by the shoulder plate she’d pressed her face against.

“Of course he will,” the Captain might not allow her inside the barracks with the rest of the men, but she’d be given a bed at the base and that was enough for him. “Is that where you want to go?”

Iza nodded slowly and leaned into the kiss Catcher pressed to her temple. She was so tired now that she didn’t feel like fighting him anymore. There truly was nowhere else she could go unless she wanted to take up a room by herself, and she didn’t think being alone was a good idea.

“Okay Little Bit,” he nudged her to steer her out of the alley, glancing briefly down towards where the commotion was still going on. “Let’s go.”

~*~*~*~

“It’s just a matter of convenience, Rex,” Catcher was quickly starting to lose patience as he stood in front of the Clone Captain, wishing that the man would just fucking _listen_ for two seconds. “We have to leave _early_ and we can’t waste daylight waiting on her to get here! Especially not when I need to escort her from the Temple.”

Rex looked like he was getting a migraine, rubbing his forehead as he glared at his brother in annoyance. There was a big part of him that knew something _funny_ was going on but he also wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. There was always _something_ when it came to these two. But this request was just absurd. It was completely against regulations to let a Jedi stay at the compound without prior notice, and he knew enough about the situation between Catcher and Iza to know that letting her stay over was probably _not_ a good idea.

“I understand what you’re saying, Catcher, but I’m afraid—”

“Don’t do it for me, Rex,” he was going to get his ass kicked for this. Iza was going to throw a damn _fit_. “Do it for her. As a favor.”

Brown eyes that were _so_ similar to his own searched Catcher’s features and narrowed slightly before Rex tilted his head and leaned in.

“What’s going on, Catcher? Why are you so insistent?”

He had _one_ ace up his sleeve and while he knew he shouldn’t use it, Catcher was going to do it anyway.

“She’s trying to avoid General Skywalker.” Yep. He was going to get his ass _kicked_.

“General…” confusion twisted Rex’s features for a half-second before realization set in. _Right_. The boy **had** been acting a little strange during the last assignment, hadn’t he? It made sense that Iza would want a break from him, especially if there was nowhere to find solace from him in that Temple. Looking very much like he just wanted to get Catcher the hell out of his face so he could get back to work, Rex waved a dismissive hand and shook his head. “Fine. _One night_ , and she stays in her own damn bunk.”

“Yes sir,” Catcher nodded curtly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Catcher,” Rex’s voice took on a more serious tone as his eyes shifted back to the other man. “I want to talk to her.”

“Yes sir.” He was sure Iza wouldn’t have a problem with that. “I’ll send her in.”

Rex only nodded and watched the man leave from the corner of his eye. _Something_ seemed off about this situation, but he couldn’t quite place a finger on what it was. If Iza was having an issue with Anakin, she should know that she could come to him privately without having to use Catcher as a middle-man. He could understand her not wanting to trouble any of the Jedi at the Temple; they weren’t exactly the most receptive bunch when it came to things like this, and he suspected that she didn’t intend to get the other man in trouble. She was probably just seeking solace.

“Sir?” Her soft voice stirred him from his thoughts and he offered a small smile before gesturing to the one chair in the corner.

“Have a seat, General,”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Iza wasn’t sure what to make of the request he’d made to speak with her. Catcher hadn’t said anything other than Rex had approved the sleepover and that he’d wanted to see her. She was going in completely blind and it made her nervous.

“Catcher tells me you’re having problems with General Skywalker,”

_Fuck._

“I…” licking her lips, Iza decided she’d rather sit down after all. Resting her hands in her lap, she focused her gaze on her knees and huffed out a breath. “It’s not… he’s just been behaving so _strangely_. Ever since…”

“He assured me the rumors about the two of you were false,” Rex wished she’d look at him. It was much easier to read a person when he could see their eyes. “Was he being truthful?”

“Of course!” Picking her head up, Iza let out a laugh and ran her fingers through her hair. “I would never do that to Catcher.”

“Am I to understand it was just a—cover up of some sort? The two of you?”

“Yes sir,”

“His behavior,” leaning against the wall in front of her, Rex folded his arms across his chest. “Explain it to me.”

“He’s just been _weird_. He seems convinced that Catcher’s abusive towards me and… he just gets in these _moods_ …”

A brow went up high on Rex’s forehead before he fixed her with a stern look.

“What would give him the impression that Commander Catcher would be abusive, Iza?”

She hated how quickly her cheeks colored at the question.

“ _Sir_ ,” rubbing the heel of her hand against the side of her face like it might keep it from flushing any darker, the brunette kept her eyes low. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not—”

“Please answer the question,”

“Bruises, okay? He saw bruises and got the wrong idea. They weren’t… Catcher would never…” _Stars above_. “It’s entirely consensual, sir.”

Rex popped his tongue against the roof of his mouth and wished he hadn’t asked. That was entirely too much damn information and he needed to know _none_ of it.

“Right. Moving on.” Clearing his throat, he seemed unable to look at her straight on anymore. “His moods. Are they similar to what I witnessed in the cruiser?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, wanting very much to just disappear on the spot. This was fucking _mortifying_. “He’s getting too concerned for me and it’s… uncomfortable. If I were to bring it up to his Master, Obi-Wan would likely say that it’s just in Anakin’s nature to behave that way. He does have a history of becoming _attached_ to the wrong people.”

“In his defense,” waving a hand, Rex gave an apologetic tilt of his head, “You were _badly_ injured, General. It’d be difficult for anyone to look at you in the state you were in and not feel _some_ shift in emotion.”

“I felt _fine_ , Rex,” had she? Iza could no longer recall just how much pain she’d been in, “You all fussed at me for no reason.”

“You think a fractured wrist and a shattered orbital socket is _no reason?_ ”

“Shattered…?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Of course they hadn’t. Damn Jedi. “General, you had to be sedated and given an internal bacta treatment for it. General Skywalker kept an eye on you to make sure that you didn’t suffer from too much pain.”

So _that_ was what they’d given her. It was also probably why she hadn’t had a headache since the incident as well. But Iza still didn’t like hearing any of this. She didn’t like hearing that Anakin had sat by her side like that. It wasn’t his place to do so, even if had just been out of friendly concern.

“It gives him no right to put his mouth on me, Captain,” the words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them and she could _feel_ the way Rex tensed in front of her.

“Pardon?”

“This cover up… it went to his head,” shrugging, she turned her hands up. “I was willing to excuse the first kiss as just _acting_. We were supposed to be playing like we were lovers, you know? But there was something… _wrong_ with the way he kissed me the second time.” There’d been a sort of fury in it, hadn’t there? His reaction once he’d sobered as well; it reminded her of what she’d gone through only a short while ago. Had he just acted upon an impulse he couldn’t control?

“Does Catcher know?”

Iza laughed _hard_ , shaking her head and giving Rex a look.

“ _Fuck no_ ,” she didn’t mean to smile the way she did. “He’d try to kill him if he knew. You have to understand—I’m trying to protect _all of us_ , Rex.”

“I understand just fine, Iza,” the girl’s heart was too big for her own good. That’s what he was getting out of this. “Would you like for me to speak to General Skywalker on your behalf?”

“No,” her tone was clipped and cold, a drastic change from what it had been just moments before. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather leave it. I’ve broken off the arrangement with him and all I’m asking is for _one_ night away from the Temple without having to take up shelter in a hostel.”

“I’ve already given Commander Catcher the go-ahead to set up a bunk for you,” he needed a fucking drink. “The only thing I ask is that you _stay_ in your own bed, General.”

“I have no intention of breaking any rules in here tonight, sir. I just want to rest.”

That surprised him. He couldn’t figure out _why_ , but it did. Maybe because he was so used to her wanting to bend the rules to their breaking point that he’d just come to expect it out of her. But—the girl had become rather compliant lately, and he suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that she was allowed to be around Catcher more frequently than before. Maybe it did do them some good to be near one another instead of being apart. He’d never say it out loud, but it _did_ appear to work wonders for certain other Jedi like General Secura. The bond shared between Commander Bly and his Jedi General wasn’t exactly **common** knowledge, but Rex had been around long enough to know the signs of attachment by this point. Unlike Iza, the Twi’lek Jedi was far more discreet about her _attachment_.

“Very well,” he nodded and offered a small smile, unsure of whether or not it’d give any source of comfort to her. “Then you may have your rest.”

“Thank you, sir,” looking _beyond_ relieved, Iza slowly got to her feet and started for the door, pausing and looking back at the blond Captain. “Rex?”

“Yes?”

“Please keep this to yourself. I don’t want any of it getting back to Catcher, and I would prefer not to have to deal with Anakin getting upset that I _tattled_ on him.”

“You have my word, General,” nodding to confirm, Rex smiled again.

“Thank you.” And out she went, leaving him to lean against the wall and shake his head with a heavy sigh.

“Damn Jedi,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Worse than having kids sometimes.”


	11. To Keep Her Safe is All I Know

How they’d managed to get separated from the Stars was beyond her. The last thing Iza recalled before blacking out was calling for the men to fall back, and now she and Catcher were huddled together in a damn _cave_. She didn’t even have her lightsaber and had no idea where it’d gone. Her lover said there’d been some sort of explosion and he’d seen the gunship leave in the middle of the commotion; perhaps they’d be back to evac them later? It would help if they could get a signal out. The damn communicators had stopped working after the explosion and try as they might, neither of them could seem to get them to work again. _Hopefully_ someone from the squad would think to come back and comb the area.

“How you doing, Little Bit?” Catcher asked as he ran his fingers through Iza’s dirt-muddled hair, watching her look up from where she was resting her head in his lap. Her body was sore from being thrown aside like a piece of trash, but she was pretty much unharmed. Catcher sported some nasty cuts and bruises on his face and winced any time he had to put weight on his left foot, but at least they were both alive.

“Tired,” she mumbled, lifting an arm to tap the button on her wrist-comm for the hundredth time with no success. “ _Ugh_. You’d think they would have noticed we’re not with them by now.”

“I’m sure they have, sweetheart,” Catcher knew how these things worked. They would have to reconvene back on the starship and gather more troopers before coming back to collect them. Hell, the Stars might even have to _wait_ for permission to even search for their superiors, if the circumstances were not aligned properly. Smiling faintly when the brunette turned over and looked up at him, Catcher eyed the gash in her cheek and silently wondered if he ought to advise her to clean it out or not.

“I wish I knew what happened to my lightsaber.” Sitting up with a grunt, Iza scooted so she was nestled against his side instead and made a face. “It’d be nice to have more light than your bucket lamp.”

“I’m going to have to shut it off soon if we’re going to use it for more than one night,” he didn’t like the idea of that, but the charge would only last a few hours and they needed to use it sparingly.

“I can go get supplies to make a fire,” she really didn’t want to leave him here by himself, but what choice did she have? She didn’t want him walking on a foot that could be broken and she also didn’t want to sit here in the dark without knowing how cold it was going to get. “You’ve got your blaster, right?”

“Only have about half a round left, but yeah.” Looking to his thigh holster, Catcher eyed her hesitantly. “Sweetheart, do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” using the wall of the cave to get to her feet, Iza hissed as her muscles throbbed in protest. “I want you to stay here.”

“Do you want the lamp, at least?”

She shook her head.

“It’s a little brighter out there. I’ll see what I can do about finding some water too.” She had some ration bars stashed in her back pouch that they could share when they inevitably got hungry, so she wasn’t going to bother looking for food for the time being. “I’ll be back, okay?”

“Come here,” waving his hand at her, Catcher beckoned her to his level and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “If you’re not back in an hour, I’m coming out there to look for you.”

“Hour and a half,” she argued, brushing dirt from his cheek. “You need to give me time to look, love.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy for the blowout it would turn into.

“Okay,” nodding, he kissed her again and relented. “Be safe, Little Bit.”

“Always.”

~*~*~*~

“We _have_ to go back!” Popper gestured wildly to the hologram of Rex that stood before him and what remained of the Stars. “Sir—I know they’re still there!”

“It’s out of my hands, Pop.” Rex looked conflicted as he frowned back at his brother. “You’ve been ordered back to Coruscant. I’ve already alerted General Skywalker and General Kenobi of the situation, but they have to run it by the council and—”

“Fuck their council!” Ze was going to throw his helmet through the hologram. “Those are _our_ men, Captain! We can’t just leave them stranded!”

“We don’t even know if they’ve survived, Ze. There has been no communication—”

“The explosion knocked out everything. We told you that. Those damn clankers set off the bird carrying the entire supply of poppers and it messed the whole system up.” Karver appeared to be the only one of the group who wasn’t completely losing his shit. Turning a hand over, he sighed heavily. “Sir, is there anything you can do to expedite the process?”

“Not without breaking protocol.” Rex shook his head and then made a face. “Where is Unk?”

“We’re pretty sure he’s on the other comm trying to get in touch with Cody,” looking between his brothers, Karver shrugged a shoulder. “You have to understand, sir. With all she’s done to keep _us_ safe and make sure we get back in one piece, it feels wrong to just leave the General behind. Not to mention Commander Catcher.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Rex appeared to be silently weighing the few options he even had before he shook his head again and offered a weak shrug. “The only thing we can do is hope that the Jedi aren’t willing to just leave one of their own out there.”

“They did it to Skywalker’s Padawan.” Scoffing, Ze rolled his eyes and kicked a nearby chair. “They left that girl to defend herself and find her own way off some damn poacher’s island. They’re not going to _okay_ us to rescue them.”

Rex fell silent.

“Yeah, see? We’ve got about as much support as we usually do. We’re expendable. We’re replaceable. And so are the Jedi, apparently.”

“I’ll talk to the General personally,” Rex said finally, his eyes not coming up from whatever he happened to be staring at on the other end. “I know Skywalker. He’ll find some way around the rules.”

“I hope so.” Popper muttered, grinding his teeth.

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.” With that, Rex’s image disappeared from view and left the rest of the Stars growling in frustration.

“I can’t believe this,” kicking the chair again, Ze dropped down into it and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I can’t _fucking_ believe this.”

“None of us can, Ze,” leaning up against the wall of the ship, Karver ran a hand over his face and huffed out a breath.

“It baffles me that they want us back without her. She’s our _General_ , for Maker’s sake!” Popper had taken to pacing and occasionally looking down towards the hall where Unk had disappeared previously. “Where the _hell_ did that man go?”

“You know how he is,” shrugging, Karver let out a snort. “He likes to pretend the General gets under his skin but he’s got a real soft spot for her.”

“She busted his balls the first day. Of course he’s got a soft spot for her.” Laughing, Popper rolled his eyes. “She also almost got her ass _killed_ the first day while trying to keep the rest of us alive. Pissed him off, but also—”

“Cody can kiss my _ass_.” The gruff statement was followed by the heavy _thunk_ of a helmet hitting the ground as Unk came storming in. “It’s like nobody wants to _do_ anything over there!”

“You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know, brother,” Karver had a bad feeling he was going to be dealing with a group of drunks tonight. _Angry_ drunks, at that. “If it’s any consolation, Rex said he’d speak to Skywalker personally and see what he might be able to do.”

“Oh yeah, that makes me feel _so_ much better.” Scoffing, Unk scrubbed his palms over his face. “Skywalker’s been acting _real_ strange about the General lately. Who’s to say he won’t refuse?”

“I have a funny feeling that won’t be the case,” Popper frowned as he said it, looking a bit uneasy. “Just trust me on that.”

Silence fell between the Stars for a few minutes before Ze finally got to his feet and waved a hand.

“I can’t sit around and think about this. Someone let me know when you know something.”

“Where are you going?” Karver asked, watching his brother head for the door.

“I need a damn drink.” _Of course_.

“Don’t get wasted. We need to be on our toes, just in case.”

“ _I know_.”

~*~*~*~

It had been at least three days now and Iza was growing tired of this stupid cave with its stupid bugs and stupid draft that liked to put the fire out at stupid times. She’d managed to fashion a makeshift splint for Catcher’s foot—it only appeared to be sprained, but she wasn’t taking chances—and had found a water source clean enough to drink from and take care of their wounds. The ration sticks were running low already, however, and so was her hope that they were going to be rescued. She didn’t want to lose faith in her squad; those men were too loyal to just leave them behind like that. Iza knew that the Jedi Council would likely be to blame if an evac wasn’t sent, but the Stars would definitely fight for it. There was no doubt about that.

“You need to rest, Little Bit.” Catcher’s hand was gentle as it came down onto her shoulder when he sat beside her at the mouth of the cave, but his tone was firm and serious. “I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I’m fine,” leaning over to nestle into his side, Iza looked up and tried to smile. She wasn’t entirely sure anything actually changed in her expression, though. She was so damn tired it wasn’t even funny. It was hard to sleep in a place like this when she was afraid she might miss the search party that _still_ hadn’t shown up to look for them.

“Sweetheart,” Catcher’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head, fingers rubbing at her scalp to encourage her to shut her eyes. “You know I’ll keep you safe, right?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Catch,” she wished he wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair.

“I already offered to sleep in shifts. Little Bit,” his other hand smoothed across her uninjured cheek. “You know I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

“I know,” of course he wouldn’t. She knew that. She still didn’t want to risk falling asleep so deeply that they missed out on the only opportunity they had to be saved.

“What can I do?” His lips were dry when they brushed her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. “How can I make it easier for you to rest, Little Bit?”

“Catch,” laughing quietly, she reached up and affectionately stroked the side of his face. “We’re filthy. We’re _hurt_. I don’t think—”

Iza stopped dead in the middle of explaining why sex was probably not the best remedy when she heard the unmistakable sound of a ship entering the atmosphere. It was hard to tell whether or not it was a gunship or not, but it was still a _ship_. Scrambling to her feet, she batted at his hands when he tried to follow and pointed at him.

“Stay here,” bowing to kiss his forehead, she smiled when he gave a disgruntled look. “I’m just going to _look_.”

“Iza—”

“Catcher, if it’s a Republic ship, they need to know we’re here,” and even if it wasn’t, maybe it was someone who could help. “Please, darling, just stay put. I don’t want you getting hurt any more than you already are.”

He looked even more hesitant, but knew she had a point. His foot was far from broken, but it was still painful to walk on. He’d only slow her down if he tried to go with her. Taking hold of her chin, he pulled her in for a proper kiss and nodded.

“Okay. Just… be careful.”

“I will,” nodding, the brunette turned and dashed out of the cave, running off towards where the sound of the ship was coming from. It was still too high in the air to tell whether or not it was one of the Republic’s birds or not, but it was _big_. None of the symbols painted on it looked to be of Separatist origin, so that was a good sign. Noting that it seemed to be heading towards where the battle had gone down a few days prior, she took off towards the area as well. Hopefully, whoever was on board was reasonably friendly.

Crouching behind a bunch of boulders to watch the ship land, Iza realized that the ship wasn’t part of the Republic fleet. She didn’t recognize this sort of ship at all, in fact. It was like a flat disk that spun as it floated down to the surface of the planet, extending landing gear that kicked up red dust when it hit. Her first thought was that it must’ve been a scavenger crew here to pick up the bits leftover from busted clankers and what was left of the gunship that had exploded. But when the ramp deployed and a line of Weequay men began filing out, she got a sinking feeling in her gut. These were pirates; they were likely looking for leftover weapons and whatever goods had been dropped and left behind. They wouldn’t be of any help at all.

Tired as she was, Iza could only hang her head and droop against the boulders, pounding a frustrated fist against one. _Fantastic_. Three days on this stupid rock and the only people who’d even broken the atmosphere turned out to be criminals who would sooner leave her and Catcher for dead rather than help them.

“Hey—look what I found!”

“Is that a _lightsaber?_ ”

Perking up, Iza straightened and peered over the side of the boulder again to try and spot which one of the men was speaking.

“The boss will be pleased with this,” a man dressed in raggedy trousers and a black vest was turning something over in his hands and for the split second that it came into view, Iza recognized it as _her_ lightsaber. _Where_ had he found it? She’d been searching for it the whole time they’d been here!

Taking a deep breath, she held her hand out and concentrated. She was so damn tired that she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to call the lightsaber to her, but she could hear the pirate complaining about how it was being pulled from him. Gritting her teeth, she focused harder and probably would have passed out if she hadn’t heard the outraged shout and felt the column of metal hit her palm.

“Up there!”

“ _Get her!_ ”

Iza had no time to celebrate the retrieval of her lightsaber as she got to her feet, swaying a little from exhaustion, and took off back toward the cave. She could hear blaster pistol fire behind her and clicked the weapon to life to deflect the bolts, skidding on rocks when she turned a little too sharply. She could see Catcher still sitting at the mouth of the cave, waiting for her to return and she started to wave at him frantically to get his ass back inside.

“ _Go!_ ” the brunette hollered, racing up the hill. The sound of footsteps thundered close behind and she barely made it inside in time to grab Catcher’s helmet and shove it into his hands. “ _Put it on!_ ”

“Iza, what—”

“ _Don’t argue!_ ”

“Okay!” Catcher had no damn idea what was going on but he slipped the helmet on over his head anyway, reaching for the half-empty blaster at his side as the sound of heavy boots got closer. He grunted when Iza shoved him back against the wall of the cave and planted herself dead center between him and the opening, one hand thrown back protectively while she held her lightsaber up defensively.

“Well, _well_ ,” the man leading the pack of pirates stayed close to the mouth of the cave, though his blaster remained level with Iza’s form. “What have we here?”

“ _Get out_ ,” backing up against Catcher to cover him with as much of her body as possible, the young Jedi’s arm shook as she held the lightsaber out. “Leave us alone,”

“Oh,” the Weequay cooed, looking between them. “ _Us?_ Now, what would a little Jedi need with a Clone?”

“I will _kill_ you,” Iza’s voice shook as she said it, though her stomach turned at the idea. “I will kill all of you.”

“Tut-tut-tut,” he took a step closer and wagged a finger. “That is not the Jedi way.”

“ _Iza_ ,” Catcher slipped his arm around her waist to try and hold her back, unsure whether or not he wanted to risk taking her threat seriously.

“We have _nothing_ for you,” she bit out, ignoring the way the pirate’s eyes had flicked to Catcher’s possessive hold. “Leave us alone.”

“Oh, but you have _that_ ,” he gestured to the lightsaber in her hand. “And I believe I had it _first_.”

“It’s _mine_.”

“Finders keepers, little Jedi,” the pirate grinned slow and started to raise his pistol when a bolt shot past his head and startled him.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Catcher’s growl seemed even more threatening through the helmet. “If she doesn’t kill you, _I will_.”

“What is going on here? What is all this noise?” A thickly accented voice sounded from outside and caused all parties to turn and watch as another Weequay joined the group. This one was dressed more decadently than his fellow pirates and wore a helmet and protective goggles over his eyes. On his shoulder, an exotic Kowakian clung to his jacket and scrutinized the situation as thoroughly as its master.

“Boss,” the pirate gestured to Iza and Catcher, who were both still brandishing their weapons.

“A _Jedi_ ,” the man grinned and rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “And a Clone? And what would you be doing _here?_ ”

Iza didn’t know whether or not to respond. She had a vague idea of who this was; she’d heard stories brought back by others who’d come across him during their assignments.

“Come now,” the pirate waved his hands as a gesture for everyone to lower their weapons, “We are all _friends_ , yes?”

“Friends?” Iza eyed him. “I don’t even know you.”

“You do not know the great Hondo Ohnaka? Tut-tut,” he clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Hondo is a friend to _all_ Jedi.”

“Name _one_ ,”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Hondo turned his hand up and rubbed his chin again. “He is my good friend, in fact. The Skywalker boy, too.”

Iza wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or not. She could see how Anakin might get himself mixed up with a guy like this, but _Obi-Wan?_

“You look tired, little Jedi,” Hondo took a step closer and paused when Catcher tightened his hold on Iza and leveled his blaster with his head. “ _Oh ho ho!_ Protective, are we? Don’t worry, Clone. I won’t hurt her.”

“Catch,” sliding her free hand along his arm, Iza coaxed him into lowering the blaster.

Hondo’s eyes shifted between the two again before another slow smile spread across his lips and he tucked his hands behind his back.

“Did you desert your posts?” he asked curiously, tilting his head. “Are you on the run, Jedi?”

“No,” she answered flatly, unwilling to power down her lightsaber. She wanted to keep _something_ between them and the pirates.

“Stranded, then?”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” clapping his hands in front of him, Hondo’s smile grew wider. “So, you need Hondo’s help?”

She didn’t want to admit it, but this was probably going to be the only way they were going to get off of this damn planet. Who knew how long it would take for the council to approve an evac at this point? Taking a deep breath, she dropped her gaze and worked her jaw.

“What do you want in return?” Catcher snapped, not sounding pleased about this idea at all.

“I owe a favor,” Hondo seemed a little bitter about it, but still smiled nonetheless. “But maybe in the future, you can remember that Hondo Ohnaka saved you from this garbage planet?”

Looking at one another for a long time, Iza was the first one to shrug. What choice did they have at this point?

“Fine,” powering down the lightsaber, Iza clipped it to her belt and eyed the pirate. “But I would like to use your communication port before we leave.”

Hondo waved a hand.

“You may do so.”

“Lead the way.” There was no way she’d get stuck in front of any of these bastards. Besides, she needed to help Catcher walk. Waiting until the pirate had turned to leave Iza broke out of Catcher’s grasp and slipped his arm over her shoulders, giving his good foot a kick. “You better do this properly, Catch. I will not hesitate to drag you down this hill.”

“I got it, Little Bit,” he sounded frustrated, like he wasn’t entirely on board with the situation. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. The idea of trusting these pirates was leaving a bad taste in her mouth, but they didn’t have any other options. It was either this or sit and wait to see whether or not someone else would eventually come by.

The trek down to the ship took a little longer than necessary but only because she had to help Catcher. Thankfully most of the pirates didn’t seem too bothered by the wait.

“Why are we dragging the dead weight?” one asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Boss, do we really _need_ —”

“ _Quiet_.” Hondo scowled and shook his head at his man. “The Clone is hers. It comes with us.”

“ _He_ has a name.” Iza snapped, looking beyond irritated as she helped Catcher up the ramp so she could settle him into a corner and get him off his foot.

“My apologies, little Jedi,” Hondo sounded _somewhat_ sincere. “But I do not even know _your_ name.”

“Tacor. Just call me Jedi Tacor.”

“Tacor,” he hummed and rubbed his chin, studying her. “Well, you will find the communicator in the next hub.”

“Thanks.” Looking to Catcher, she smiled tiredly and gave the top of his helmet a light rap with her knuckles. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

Taking her hand, he squeezed her fingers affectionately and nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Promise.” He wouldn’t even take the helmet off until she got back because he knew she’d worry about him not being fully armored. Watching as she left to go make her call, Catcher leaned his head back against the wall he was propped against and let out a sigh.

“She cares a great deal for you,” Hondo’s voice startled him. “Are you sure you want us to take you back to the Republic, soldier?”

Catcher knew what the pirate was asking, and he was grateful for the fact that his helmet hid the smirk on his lips. Yeah, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about how they could start their lives over if evac never came. Maybe he’d been banking on the idea that the Jedi weren’t going to waste time or resources looking, too. But he also knew that Iza wanted to get back because of _his_ injury, and it wasn’t fair to wish for things like that when he wasn’t sure if she was on board with them.

“She’s the boss,” Catcher answered, chuckling lightly. “I’m not the one you should be asking.”

“She should not be making such important decisions. She is dead on her feet.” The pirate didn’t sound concerned, just curious. “You have not tried to make her get rest?”

“She’s stubborn.”

“A good woman, then?” Hondo laughed and gestured for his men to go to the supply room.

“A very good woman, yes.” Once more, Catcher was glad the helmet obstructed the view of his facial expression. He wouldn’t be able to hide the grin on his face if he tried.

“What are you smiling at?” Iza’s sleepy tone had him turning to look up at her through the visor. “Yes, I can _tell_.”

“Did you make your call, little Jedi?” Hondo tucked his hands behind his back and watched while Iza sat down beside Catcher, who dropped his arm around her shoulder.

“I did. Master Obi-Wan said he would be willing to meet at your base, if you’d be willing to oblige.”

“That can be arranged,”

“He said you could call him when you were ready. He’s… instructed me to get some sleep.” More like _demanded_ , but Iza wasn’t going to let anyone else know that. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like some medical supplies if you’ve got any. I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.”

“Of course, of course,” waving a hand, Hondo gestured down the hallway. “You may take the room to your left if you would like… _privacy_.”

Iza barely had the energy to fight the blush that crept across her cheeks. Thanking him, she waited for him to leave before rolling to her feet again, throwing her arms out to balance herself when her head spun. Catcher’s hands snatched her waist to steady her and she knew he was frowning under that stupid bucket when she looked down at him and held her hands out.

“Come on— _up_.”

“I can do it on my own, sweetheart,”

“I would not argue with your woman, soldier,” Hondo’s chuckle echoed in from the hallway. “She seems very _feisty_.”

“She’s not—”

“ _It’s an order, Commander_.” Clearly, Iza wasn’t playing around anymore.

“All right, all right,” Catcher slipped his hands into hers and braced his back against the wall to make it easier for her to pull him to his feet, shaking his head the entire time. Letting her help him down to the room Hondo had said they could use, he caught the man’s eye as they passed the communications hub and watched him smirk. He thought he heard the Weequay say something, but was preoccupied with trying not to lean too much on his bad foot _and_ put too much of his weight on Iza. Once he’d been made to sit down on an uncomfortable looking cot, Catcher reached to take hold of Iza and stop her from leaving. “Hey,”

“The supplies,” she pointed impatiently and swayed dangerously again, causing him to click his tongue at her and haul her off her feet. “ _Catcher_ ,”

“No,” carefully settling her down on the cot, he popped his helmet off and set it aside. “They’ll bring them in, Iza.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, but now that she was off her feet she didn’t seem to have the strength. Instead, she just whined at him and huffed angrily.

“Don’t get mad at me,” smiling at her, Catcher moved to lay down beside her and pulled her back against his chest. “I have you. You’re safe.”

“But you—”

“Shhh,” kissing the side of her head, he snickered at her and shook his head. “You’re so damn stubborn, Iza. I’ll be fine.”

Turning over so she could look at him, the brunette pouted and brushed some of the dirt away from his armor. Both of them turned when the door slid open and one of Hondo’s men strolled in with a box in his arms. He seemed to eye them for a minute before setting the box down with a nod and leaving the room. Moving to try and sit up, Iza gave another frustrated huff when Catcher put a restraining hand against her belly and pointed a finger at her.

“I said _no_.” Fixing her with a look and planting another kiss to her forehead, the Clone scooted off of the cot to grab the box and root through it. There was an array of different bacta patches and supplies to clean wounds, as well as a few bottles of protein water and a few familiar looking packets at the bottom. “Oh… is he serious?”

“What?” propping herself up on her elbows, Iza hoped that Catcher wouldn’t force her back down again and tried to get a better look.

Holding up one of the packets containing a contraceptive, he poked his tongue into his cheek and laughed with a shake of his head.

Iza let out a barking laugh and dropped back down onto the cot, covering her face.

“ _Really?!_ ” she giggled into her fingers. “What… why does… do Weequay even…?”

“I don’t know.” Dropping the packet back into the box, Catcher came back over to sit with her and waved her up. “I don’t _want_ to know. But I appreciate knowing whose side he’s on.”

“I heard him ask if you if you were sure we wanted him to take us back to the Republic.” Sitting up beside him, Iza propped her chin on his shoulder and reached into the box for one of the waters. “He’s sharp. A little too sharp.”

“Should I have taken the offer?” Leaning his head against hers, Catcher held his breath. He wasn’t sure how Iza would react to the question, especially when she was so tired and _cranky_.

“Love,” her lips were soft against his cheek. “If I thought this pirate could truly take us away from everything, I’d take the offer in a second. But Obi-Wan told me the council had just approved a search. They were dealing with… something more important, I guess. But they weren’t just going to leave us.”

“We’d be terrible pirates,” Catcher smirked faintly, shutting his eyes when she nuzzled at the side of his head. “We’re not nearly greedy enough.”

“Not for material things, no,”

“And I don’t think either of us could abandon the Stars.”

Iza shook her head.

“No. I would have to bring them. Kicking and screaming, but they would have to go too.”

Sighing, Catcher turned his brown eyes to her and smiled affectionately before leaning in to steal a kiss. Giving her a nudge, he gestured to the box of supplies.

“Come on. Let me get you cleaned up before you start fussing over me. I want to get a patch on that wound.” Tentatively, he reached up to touch the jagged mark trailing underneath her eye. “It’s going to scar, but at least we can keep it from getting infected.”

“It’s just a scar.” Iza shrugged and turned a hand up. “You have one.”

“And when we’re done,” he wasn’t sure if he admired her ability to dismiss her injuries or not. “You will sleep. Understood?”

Leaning up with a tired smile, Iza rested her forehead against his and pressed a kiss to his lips, nodding.

“Roger that, Commander.”

~*~*~*~

“Hondo,” Obi-Wan looked wary as he descended the ramp, looking around at the various pirates milling about the compound.

“Kenobi!” Greeting the Jedi with open arms and a grin on his face, Hondo walked up and stopped just feet in front of him. “It is always good to see you, my friend.”

“Yes,” the Jedi wasn’t sure he shared the sentiment. “Where are Jedi Tacor and Commander Catcher?”

“I believe they are still resting.” Rubbing his chin, Hondo pursed his lips. “They were _very_ tired. The little Jedi, especially.”

“I could tell. She was barely able to speak properly.”

“They are an interesting pair, Kenobi,” gesturing for the man to follow, Hondo turned on his heel to lead him inside. “Very loyal to each other.”

“We’ve noticed.” _Boy_ , had they. It was going unspoken amongst the Jedi council, but the majority seemed to have taken notice that Iza and her Commander had formed a peculiar bond with one another.

“Tell me,” tucking his hands against the small of his back, Hondo looked over his shoulder at Obi-Wan and raised a hairless eyebrow. “Should it not be the _Clone_ putting himself in front of the Jedi to protect her? Or do all of you throw yourself in harm’s way for your soldiers?”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. He’d become privy to Iza’s tendency to not only lead the pack when out with her squad, but to guard them with her life as well. It was another thing that had been overlooked simply because she got the job done, but she was becoming increasingly reckless to the point of giving Anakin a run for his money. Really—it was a wonder those two hadn’t worked out.

“She likes to do things her way. Doesn’t like to lose men.” Looking around the loud cantina as he was led through, Obi-Wan declined the offer for a drink and continued to follow Hondo further into the base. “How bad are their injuries?”

“Superficial,” waving a hand, Hondo shrugged. “The Clone was limping, but did not appear to be in grave need of assistance. Your Jedi’s pretty face will be marked, I’m afraid.”

“Marked?”

Dragging a fingertip over a spot on his face, the Weequay pirate offered a faint smile.

“Battle scar. We all have them.” He said.

“Indeed.” Some ran deeper than others. Obi-Wan stopped outside one of the holding cells Hondo typically used for those he captured, raising an eyebrow at the man.

“What? I had nowhere else to put them.” Pushing a button to open the door, Hondo’s eyes went wide behind his goggles and he let out an amused chuckle. “ _Well_ —”

“Master Obi-Wan!” Iza scrambled to pull her robes closed and pushed Catcher away from her, eyes wide as she sat up and tried to think of _something_ to say. “I… I… I…”

Obi-Wan looked as though he’d been hit with a stun bolt. His blue eyes closed after a good thirty seconds and he covered his mouth with a hand before the rest of him physically turned away from the sight in front of him. _Well_ , that confirmed the suspicions of everyone back at the Temple.

“ _Sir!_ ” She sounded terrified and desperate; like she was worried he’d strip her of her knighthood right then and there.

“Gather your things.” Obi-Wan didn’t sound like himself. “We’re leaving.”

“Yes sir,” looking to Catcher, Iza felt like she was going to vomit. He didn’t look any better. His face was pale and his hands trembled lightly as he began to put his armor back on over the undersuit. They’d been caught. After all of this time, they’d finally been caught. And it had to be by the _one_ Jedi in the entire Order who would have no trouble at all snitching on them. Getting to their feet, they prepared to walk shamefully behind the older Jedi, stopping only when Hondo put a hand on Iza’s shoulder.

“If you need somewhere to go, come back here.” His voice was quiet and sincere, the smile on his face a little playful. “If no one else, Hondo will take you in.”

She was sure it was supposed to comfort her, but it only made her sicker. Nodding, she felt Catcher take her hand and pull her along with him. Neither of them spoke as they followed Obi-Wan down the hall and through the cantina, eyes pointed at their feet in shame. They remained silent even as they climbed the ramp into the ship and were waved to sit on a bench in the back while Obi-Wan went up front to get them off of the planet. Iza was gripping Catcher’s fingers so tight that she worried she might break them, but she was terrified she might start crying if she let go.

Once the older Jedi had the ship on auto pilot, they heard him take a deep breath and get up from his seat, his footsteps getting closer until his boots came into view.

“I don’t need to tell you that what the two of you are doing is forbidden.” He said quietly, sounding disappointed. “Iza,”

She fought _hard_ to keep her face from screwing up when he addressed her, picking her head up to look at him even as tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

“You must let go. I believe your mind has been clouded, and I am not the only one.”

“I can’t,” it came out as a harsh whisper and she squeezed Catcher’s hand even harder, eliciting a wince from the man beside her. “Master, _please_ ,”

“You’ve become a shadow of your former self, my dear.” His words were both an accusation and a lament and she _hated_ it. “You’ve made decisions you should not. Your actions on the battlefield have become—”

“I have maintained _control_ , Master Obi-Wan!” Finally letting go of Catcher’s fingers to give them a chance to regain blood flow, she balled her hands into fists into her lap. “My dedication to the Order has not changed!”

“I do not believe that to be true.”

“You were not this cruel when you believed it to be _Anakin_ my heart belonged to!”

Obi-Wan fell silent for a moment, blue eyes searching her green ones for a moment before giving a tilt of his head.

“Perhaps I should have been.”

“Don’t do this, Master Obi-Wan,” shaking her head vigorously, Iza leaned back on Catcher as if trying to protect him. “They’ll exterminate him. _Please_ don’t do this. If you must punish someone, let it be _me_.”

“Iza—”

“ _Be quiet_ , Catcher.” Sniffling hard, she kept her gaze level with the older Jedi, not blinking even when the fresh round of tears burned her eyes. “He’s done _nothing_ but love me, sir. He’s encouraged me to hold my loyalties to the Order above him—and I _have_. Against everything in me that screams not to, I _have_ , sir. My head is _clear_. _Please_ , you **must** know… you _must_ understand how I feel…”

He did. It wasn’t something Obi-Wan spoke of to anyone, but he knew of the turmoil boiling inside of the young woman sitting before him. However, he wasn’t supposed to encourage this. If her Master caught wind of him turning a blind eye to it, there’d be serious hell to pay.

“Don’t take him from me,” she was begging now, her voice tiny and so childlike it was almost absurd. “I don’t know what will happen to me if you do.”

A brow went up high on Obi-Wan’s head. He wasn’t sure if that was a threat or something he should genuinely be concerned about. He’d never felt anything terribly _off_ about the young Jedi before, but perhaps that was because the Clone had always been by her side. The only time he could ever recall any true fluctuations within her had been when Anakin was around—but that was also during a time when Anakin was not himself. He was conflicted; if he let this go, he’d be breaking rules. If he turned her over to the council, she’d be stripped of her knighthood and Catcher would indeed be exterminated. Her warning of not knowing what would happen without the Clone was rather ominous and it made him uncomfortable. The entire situation made him uncomfortable, really.

“It’s unfair,” Iza whispered, finding Catcher’s hand again to lace their fingers together. “It’s unfair when I still follow the Code. _He is my Peace_ , Master Obi-Wan. My Knowledge. My Serenity and Harmony. _He keeps me in the Light_.”

Obi-Wan spent a great deal of time just eyeing her, rubbing a finger along his mustache and watching the way Catcher gingerly brushed the tears from her face with his free hand. As conflicted as he felt, he could not help knowing that he’d feel like an absolute monster for tearing them apart. It was not his place. This surely was the work of The Force; at least, that was what he was going to tell himself so he’d be able to sleep tonight.

“Very well,” his tone was flat and low. “We will not speak of this again. _However_ —be mindful of yourself, Jedi. I fear others will not be as understanding.”

Letting out a heavy sob of relief, Iza could only turn and bury her face in Catcher’s neck. The Clone seemed to let out a breath he’d been holding since they’d gotten on the ship and wrapped his arm around her tight, looking up at Obi-Wan with a grateful nod.

“Thank you, General,”

The other man simply nodded and turned on his heel to head to the front of the cruiser, leaving the two to themselves.

”Sweetheart,” Catcher spoke softly as he shook his hand free and stroked his fingers down Iza’s cheek. “It’s all right. It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s _not_ ,” she whispered, barely able to accept the kisses he pressed to her lips. “Catcher, he could tell Master Windu.”

“Do you think he will? Little Bit,” casting a quick glance towards the cockpit, Catcher carefully gathered Iza into his lap and cradled her to his chest. “He seems very sincere,”

“He will be watching us closely now, Catch,” she swallowed hard against a sob and shut her eyes against more tears. “I’m scared,”

“I have you,” he pressed kisses over every bit of her face he could, pinching her chin to turn her head so he could pepper more along her jaw. “I have you, sweetheart. Please don’t make yourself sick over this.”

“Tell me we’re safe,” she pleaded, pulling back to look at him. “Lie to me if you must, just…”

Both hands ran into Iza’s thick hair, cupping the back of her head as Catcher rested his forehead to hers and quieted her with a kiss.

“We’re safe, Little Bit,” he couldn’t bring himself to lie; he honestly believed that Obi-Wan would protect their secret. “We’re safe. Nothing is going to happen. I love you, Little Bit.”

Iza whined quietly as she looked back at him, sinking against his chest as a sob caused her body to shiver.

“I love you, Catch,” her voice was tight and meek. “I trust you.”

“That’s my girl,” smiling, he lightly ran his thumbs beneath her eyes and kissed the end of her nose. “You can relax, sweetheart. It’s just us.”

Nodding slowly, Iza pushed the idea that Obi-Wan was just meters away out of her mind, focusing solely on Catcher’s presence instead. In mere minutes, she was breathing easier and the tears in her eyes had begun to dry. The heavy pressure that had been building in her chest was nearly gone now and she no longer felt like she was being strangled. One of these days, she was going to have to ask him how he did that. How could he manage to pull her out of even the darkest of headspaces without even trying? Brushing her lips over his, Iza slipped her arms around his shoulders and let him pull her tighter against his chest, feeling even more exhausted than before.

“Get some sleep,” he dropped a kiss to the top of her head and leaned back on the bench so she could rest her head on his shoulder. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”


	12. All My Friends Were Glorious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There be smut here.

“General!”

Iza had gotten another few hours of sleep while on the cruiser, but somehow it still didn’t feel like enough. As she walked with Catcher beside her—his arm slung over her shoulders so she could help keep him off his foot—she perked up at the sound of someone shouting to her. Looking around, her eyes landed on the quartet of Clones standing on the tarmac wearing wide, relieved grins and she felt a flood of joy to see them. Popper was the first to jog over and relieve her of Catcher, giving her a look when she hesitated to let go of him.

“We’ll take care of him, General,” he offered a smile and jerked his head towards the Medcenter. “You know where to find him, anyway.”

“Looks like someone finally got her first badge,” Karver joked, tapping his face in the same spot Iza’s wound was healing.

“Not my first,” she had the bolt scar on her shoulder to prove that, plus a few dozen others scattered over her body that only Catcher had seen.

“It isn’t a badge if it’s not your face, General,”

 _Oh_.

“Are you going to stand there or are you coming in with us?” Popper asked, moving to start walking towards the Medcenter.

Iza hesitated and glanced back to where Obi-Wan still stood. She wasn’t sure whether or not she’d be allowed to go with her squad or not. The other Jedi simply gave a slow nod before he began to wander off, presumably to the Temple. Feeling as though another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, she sagged a little and began to trail after the Clones, careful not to take Catcher’s hand even though she was damn tempted to.

“So what’d you do, Commander?” Helping him onto a bed, Popper waved for one of their brothers to come and take a look at him.

“It’s his foot,” Iza gestured and folded her arms over her chest, watching as the medic popped the armor to removed Catcher’s boot and inspect his ankle. “I can’t tell if it’s broken or just sprained.”

“You’ve patched him?” Looking up, Kix raised an eyebrow and gestured to the bacta patch wrapped around Catcher’s ankle.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s working.”

“It’s not a Seven. It’s only a Four. It’s too weak to heal bones.” Shrugging some, he offered a light smile before peeling the patch off and using a handheld scanner to give a proper check. “Good job though. It doesn’t look like anything _is_ broken or _was_ broken. The boot would stabilize him enough to keep the bones from sliding around, anyway.”

“I kept him off his feet,” shooting Catcher a look when he scrunched his nose and rolled his eyes, Iza had to fight not to laugh. “Much to his obvious dismay.”

“With all due respect General,” Kix got to his feet to grab the proper patch, kneeling once more so he could apply it. “It’s our job to keep _you_ safe.”

“This is your first time meeting General Tacor, isn’t it?” Ze snorted and propped his hands on his hips. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard stories yet, Kix.”

“I’ve heard stories,” nodding, the other man straightened and looked like he was trying not to smirk. “The Captain likes to talk.”

Funny. Rex didn’t strike her as the kind of guy to _gossip_.

“You should be back on the foot in a few hours, Commander.” Kix gave a nod to Catcher and patted his shoulder. Giving a nod to Iza, he saluted lightly and smiled. “General,”

“I think that’s the friendliest I’ve ever seen him act towards anyone who isn’t Skywalker,” looking impressed, Karver snorted. Glancing to Unk, who’d been silent the entire time, he reached out and gave his shoulder a light punch. “What’s with you?”

“General,” Unk cleared his throat and stood at attention in front of her, though he kept his eyes as level with hers as he could. “I hope you don’t think we abandoned you out there. We did everything we could to get an evac out there. They wouldn’t turn around. We—”

“At ease, Trooper,” putting her hands up with a soft smile, Iza let out a tiny laugh and shook her head. “Out of the entire Army, you four are the last I’d ever expect to leave us stranded. You have nothing to apologize for or to explain.”

“Sir,” he blew out a heavy breath and looked between the two. “I _tried_. I almost called in a favor from Commander Wolffe.”

“Unk, please,” setting her hands on his shoulders, Iza gave a light squeeze.

“Did the pirate find you?”

Both Iza and Catcher looked at each other, and then back to Unk.

“…Hondo? _You_ sent Hondo?”

Looking guilty, the Clone rubbed the back of his neck and turned a hand up.

“It was a suggestion made by General Skywalker. He told me to get in contact with the pirate and tell him there were battle goods leftover on the planet. He said it would be the fastest way.”

“Why didn’t Anakin do it himself?” Folding her arms over her chest, Iza eyed him a little and frowned. She wasn’t upset with _him_ ; Anakin on the other hand…

“He didn’t say. He only told me how to get in touch with the man. I didn’t even know if it was going to work. He didn’t sound very convinced.”

“What did you tell him?” Catcher asked, sitting up a little more on his bed.

“I told him exactly what General Skywalker told me to. That there were some leftover goods on the planet that he could help himself to. Courtesy of the Republic. He seemed a little suspicious at first until I told him that he had the blessing of General Skywalker.”

“I wonder if he knew?” Iza mumbled, frowning lightly. “He did say he _owed a favor_. Maybe he knew he was there to do more than pick through battle scrap?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thank you, Unk,” giving his chest a pat, she smiled at him as brightly as she could. “You did a good thing. Don’t stress yourself out anymore over this. We are both grateful for what you’ve done. I owe you more than just a drink, but I’m afraid it’s all I have to give.”

Unk shook his head.

“You do enough for us, sir.”

“I’m still buying you a round. All of you.”

“Is she even _allowed_ at 79’s anymore?” Ze grinned slowly when his brothers turned to shoot him a look, putting his hands up in defense. “I’m _kidding!_ ”

“It will have to wait, regardless,” Iza smirked and shook her head at him. “I’ve got to get to the Temple for debrief and _someone_ has to keep off of his feet for a few hours.”

“Have I moved? Have I tried to get up?” Catcher made a face and turned his hands up in disbelief that she would say such a thing. “I am nowhere near as stubborn as you are, Little Bit. I know when to yield.”

“No you don’t,” Iza gave him such a secretly sultry look that it made the others in the room look a little flustered and turn away from the two to try and hide it. “But I’ll be back to check in on you in a while. You boys take care of him for me, okay?”

“Yes sir,” all four Stars chorused, nodding in unison.

Glancing around, Iza leaned over and kissed Catcher’s cheek briefly before taking her leave. Once she was out of earshot, Karver was the first to snort and elbow his brother.

“Bit of a ballbuster, that one,” he grinned to show he was just kidding around and got a roll of the eyes in return.

“She’s a _brat_ is what she is.” Catcher muttered, making a face.

“She’s a good woman, though. Great soldier.”

“Yeah,” the bed bound Clone wasn’t sure how much he liked that second bit. “She is.”

~*~*~*~

“ _Anakin!_ ” Iza had to jog to catch up to the taller Jedi, who didn’t seem to want to stop walking. “Would you hold on a minute?!”

Rolling his eyes as he stopped in his tracks and turned around, the younger Jedi folded his arms over his chest and shot her an expectant, _annoyed_ look.

“What, Iza? I’m busy.”

“Am I not allowed to say _thank you?_ ”

“For what?”

Mocking his stance, Iza folded her arms across her chest.

“Does the name Hondo Ohnaka ring any bells?”

“The pirate?” He looked her over and shrugged. “What about him?”

“ _Anakin!_ ”

“Listen—” lowering his voice, he stepped closer until their boots almost touched and stared down into her eyes. “I only helped because your men were ready to steal a gunship and go back for you themselves.”

Iza’s brow furrowed lightly as she leaned back a little and started to drop her arms to her sides.

“Why would you bother?”

“Because they’re good men. They don’t deserve to be court martialed for going against such stupid orders.”

“So it was for them,” she didn’t quite believe that. “You went through the trouble of giving Unk the contact information of a _pirate_ for the sake of _my squad_ not getting into trouble?”

Anakin shrugged.

“And it had _nothing_ to do with me? Or Catcher?” Iza wanted to shake him. And people thought _she_ was stubborn.

“Nope.”

Letting out a dry laugh, the brunette shook her head and moved to walk around him. _Whatever_. If that was how he wanted to play it, then so be it. She didn’t have to thank him for nothing. She wasn’t going to waste her damn breath if he wasn’t going to listen and accept her gratitude. Hell, she wouldn’t even offer it if he was going to behave like this.

“Iza,” he called after her, but she refused to stop moving. “ _Iza_ ,”

She kept walking, knowing good and well that when she heard the sound of his footsteps coming up behind her that she was going to have to either fight him off or straight up punch him in the face. In the Temple, both of those were not great options, but she was tired of this. His back and forth indecisive behavior was starting to give her serious whiplash. Anakin’s hand was surprisingly gentle when it took hold of her upper arm to halt her in her tracks and Iza found that she couldn’t strike him down the way she wanted to. She’d promised Obi-Wan she’d be mindful and she wanted to stick to it.

“Don’t kiss me,” she warned him when she looked up to find him too close to her face. “Just don’t,”

He looked surprised, and maybe a little guilty.

“I won’t.” But he was still going to reach out and brush his knuckle over the new mark adorning her cheek. “What do you want me to say, Iza?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“What truth? That I gave your men the information so Hondo would find you for me?” The smile was faint, but still evident even as he shook his head. “You’re a smart girl. You figured that out on your own.”

“Why?”

“You know the answer to that too, Iza,”

Licking her lips, the brunette tore her eyes away and shook her head lightly. Yeah, she knew the answer and she was going to have to accept it as the truth. If Anakin harbored some sort of feelings—platonic or otherwise—she had no other choice but to accept it. At least now he seemed to understand that there needed to be boundaries. Taking a deep breath, she fully intended to thank him again and found her throat beginning to tighten.

“Obi-Wan _knows_ ,” she whispered, bringing a hand up to stop the tears before they fell. “He caught us at Hondo’s base.”

This made Anakin flinch. Staring down at her with wide eyes that flickered between concern and fear, he tilted his head and tried to get her to look at him.

“What did he say?” He brought a hand up to try and turn her head, only to have her jerk out of his grasp. “Iza?”

“He seemed willing to keep our secret,” she was going to lose it and she didn’t have Catcher here to calm her down this time. “But I’m scared that he’ll go back on that promise, Anakin. His morals… _I’m scared_.”

Anakin shook his head and touched her face again, surprised when she didn’t immediately turn away this time.

“Obi-Wan is trustworthy, I swear,” the man didn’t have a clue about _his_ secret, but he knew other things about Anakin that most people didn’t. “If he says he’s going to stay quiet, then he’ll stay quiet.”

“Does he know about…?” She looked back at him and got a slow shake of the head in return.

“You’re still the only one.” _Well—_ he had his suspicions that Ahsoka knew something, but his Padawan was pretty good about keeping her mouth shut as well. “But I would trust Obi-Wan with that secret if I thought I could tell him.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“For the same reasons you haven’t told Master Windu _your_ secret.”

Right. Master Obi-Wan _had_ tried to talk her into letting go of Catcher, hadn’t he? Master Windu would be ten times as insistent and would likely just expel her on the spot if she refused.

“Are you sure? Are you sure he won’t go back on his word, Anakin?”

Even though he smiled, it was evident on Anakin’s face that he was a little unsure. He seemed to search his head for a reason why Obi-Wan might take back his oath to keep Iza’s secret a _secret_ , and his silence made her anxious. After a few minutes, he shook his head and that smile widened.

“I have known Obi-Wan a long time. He’s never broken his word to me once—or to anyone else.”

“How do you do it?” She really wished he’d stop touching her face. She was getting too used to the feeling and the urge to lean into the gentle sweep of his thumb was getting ridiculous. “How do you keep yourself so balanced without… _her?_ ”

Anakin blew out a breath and laughed, finally taking his hand away in favor of running it through his hair. Iza could see the uneven space where she’d shorn off a good chunk with her lightsaber and felt a tiny pang of guilt in her belly. Maybe they both needed to work on this whole _balance_ thing.

“I told you before, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. It takes time, but you learn.” Shrugging a shoulder, he gestured for her to walk with him and kept to a slow pace with his hands tucked at the small of his back. “You’re doing pretty well now. You’ve gotten better at keeping yourself poised and… mellow.”

“Mellow?” She didn’t know how to take that.

“I can’t think of a better word, but you no longer feel anxious all the time. Being around you doesn’t make me feel like _I’m_ going to get caught doing something I shouldn’t.” He shot her a look from the corner of his eye and smirked. “You’ve figured out the _mindfulness_ part.”

“I’ve always been—”

“Don’t take offense. I wasn’t saying it to be rude.” Looking around the corner before he continued on, Anakin let out a soft sigh. “Hasn’t your Master told you that _everything_ is a lesson in mindfulness? You can choose to let something consume you, or you can flow with it and use it to your advantage. It’s much easier to live your life by letting things go—” he held a finger up when she opened her mouth to protest. “— _metaphorically_.”

“Since when are _you_ such an expert?” Pursing her lips, Iza raised an eyebrow and got a laugh in return.

“I’m not. I just know what works and what keeps everyone off my back.” He seemed to think about that for a moment. “Well, I guess I have my moments, but doesn’t everyone? We’re not droids, after all. We’re _people_.”

“Mm,” Iza nodded and focused her gaze on the carpet as they roamed the halls of the Temple, her thoughts running a million miles a second until Anakin startled her with a nudge to her shoulder. His smile was playful when she looked up at him and she offered a sheepish one in return. “Sorry, I just… my mind wandered.”

“Interested in sharing?”

“I…” sure, if she could figure out how to put it into words. “Anakin, do you believe in the Center Path?”

“Center Path?”

“I suppose the proper term for it would be the _Grey Jedi_ path.” Frowning as she stared down at the carpet again, Iza shrugged a shoulder and lowered her voice as they passed a couple of Temple guards. “It’s something Master Windu told me about when I was younger. Jedi who follow a code that borrows from both sides, but still fight to keep evil things at bay like we do.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of this, no,” Master Obi-Wan certainly had never told him anything about it, anyway.

“I can’t remember their Code word for word, but… sometimes…” letting out a heavy sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair and looked up at him guiltily. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve been walking that path without realizing it. I feel like the line has been blurred for me and I’m not sure what I should do.”

“Have you brought this up to Master Windu?”

Iza almost choked herself on the laugh that left her, covering her mouth when it earned her a few stares from a group of younglings idling in the hall. Waiting until they’d passed, she shook her head at Anakin and pressed her lips together tight.

“I know he would tell me that The Force works in mysterious ways and that if this is the path I’m meant to take, then he’d support it. But I also know how hard he worked to get me where I am. I would feel like even more of a failure to him and I would not want him to feel as though he failed me.”

“You’re not a failure, Iza,” tilting his head to try and get her to look at him, Anakin’s lips twisted in a light frown. Reaching out, he tapped the top of her head and maintained his serious look even when she swatted at him. “That’s _doubt_. You know better.”

“It’s not doubt when it’s _true_ , Anakin.”

“Show me where you’ve failed your Master,” stopping in his tracks, he folded his arms. “Because I haven’t seen it. You can be a little aggressive out on the battlefield— _but it’s a **battlefield**._ If you’re talking about the _other_ thing, then I suppose I’ve failed Master Obi-Wan as well.”

“He did not raise me to walk the Center Path, Anakin,”

“That wasn’t his decision to make either, was it?”

She couldn’t argue with that. She’d said herself that Master Windu would put the blame on The Force. Hell, _she_ could even do it at this point, considering she hadn’t meant to end up here. But it didn’t make accepting it any easier.

“What do I do?” Looking up at him, she heaved a sigh. “Do I tell him? Do I tell _anyone?_ Because I’m getting tired of keeping secrets, Anakin. This seems like something I shouldn’t keep to myself.”

“I don’t think that’s a decision I can make for you.” He smiled tightly. “What would your Master tell you to do about making a decision like that?”

“Meditate on it,” rolling her eyes, she scoffed out a laugh. “As if I haven’t. The longer I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t follow the same Code I once thought I did.”

“At least you’re not Sith.”

“I could _never_.” Shivering in disgust, Iza brushed a bit of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “I suppose I’ll have to say something, won’t I? I just hope it doesn’t get me kicked out.”

Letting out a thoughtful noise, Anakin appeared to mull that over for a minute before he lightly ground his teeth together.

“Perhaps wait before you say anything,” he murmured, not looking at her. “Let me talk to Master Obi-Wan and see if I can’t get more information about this out of him. I can play it off like I heard something or read something in the archives. I can gauge his reaction and get a better feel of how the Council would react.”

She almost wanted to hug him. Her features softened from their worried state and she looked at him with something like admiration in her eyes.

“You’d go through the trouble?”

“You don’t deserve to be cast out for taking a lesser traveled path, Iza,” he chuckled quietly and smiled. “You said this _Center Path_ still maintains vigilance against evil things. I don’t see any reason for you to—”

“Master!” Ahsoka’s voice echoed through the hallway and made both Jedi turn to watch her run up.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Frowning as though prepared for some bad news, Anakin forgot what he’d been talking about entirely.

“You’ve got a call,” Ahsoka smiled at Iza and nodded in greeting before looking back at her Master. “It’s the Senator. It didn’t seem urgent, but—”

“I have to take this,” looking to Iza, Anakin winced and waved towards where Ahsoka had just run in from. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Sure,” nodding, she watched as the two took off and left her standing in the hall.

~*~*~*~

“All right, on three— _one, two, **three**!_”

Popper’s voice was loud over the music pulsing around them as all five Stars and Iza knocked back the strong shots of liquor. The Jedi couldn’t help the face she made as she tried not to gag, turning to hide her face in the crook of her arm while someone’s hand slapped her affectionately on the back.

“One more, General!” Ze was in her ear, his liquor laden breath hot on her cheek. “You got this!”

Really, she probably needed to slow down. They’d been taking shots in between rounds of ale and _whatever_ was in that bottle Unk was holding, and she was starting to feel very fuzzy. Thank the Force they weren’t due to be called out for an assignment because of Catcher’s foot.

“Give her a minute,” pushing his brother away, Catcher wound an arm around Iza and pulled her back between his knees as he sat on a stool, resting his chin on her shoulder. He’d been thankful to see her show up in something other than her Jedi attire tonight and was _quite_ fond of the way she looked in the basic civilian wear. Eyeing the smile that quirked the corner of the brunette’s lips when he smoothed a hand over her hip, he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and nuzzled at her ear. “How are you doing, Little Bit?”

“I think I might be drunk, Commander,” reaching up behind her to run her fingers through Catcher’s hair, she twisted in his arms to look at him and shamelessly kissed him. Pulling away at the sound of little whooping cheers coming from the rest of the squad, she made a rude gesture with her hands and picked up the bottle of ale she’d been drinking from.

“You _think?_ Sweetheart,” laughing into her hair, Catcher gave her middle an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve been keeping up with _these_ idiots. You don’t know how surprised I am that you’re not on the floor.”

“Jedi tricks,” she grinned and swallowed down what was left in the bottle. “I could force myself to be sober if I really wanted to.”

“Well that’s not fair, is it?” Karver leaned up against the bar and made a face. “I bet you won’t even have a hangover tomorrow.”

Iza shrugged.

“I dunno. I’ve never had this much to drink before.” Giving Catcher a look, she made a face. “ _Someone_ has always monitored my intake.”

“Here’s to being a bad influence!” Ze had returned with another tray of shots—taller ones full of a clear liquid that smelled quite strong.

“What is _that?_ ” Popper looked a little unsure as he eyed the tray.

“No idea,” grinning, Ze set the tray down on the bar. “Told the droid to give me the strongest thing they had.”

“You’re going to kill our General.”

“Fuck off, she can handle herself.” Waving a hand at Iza, who’d returned to kissing Catcher without a damn care in the universe, Ze grinned even wider. “And she’s got the Commander to keep an eye on her.”

“Yeah. His _eye_ is about the last thing he’s got on her,”

“We can _hear_ you,” Catcher muttered, breaking away from Iza long enough to shoot the two a look. Leaning over to take a look at the contents of the shots, he made a face and looked at Iza with a shake of his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” She pouted and ran a crooked finger along his jaw. “I thought we were having fun, Catch?”

“We’re having a lot of fun, Little Bit,” he smiled back and kissed the end of her nose. “But like I told you the last time—there’s a difference between _having fun_ and getting dead drunk.”

Eyeing him for a long moment, Iza poked the tip of her tongue out from between her teeth and _would_ have said something extremely cheeky if the rest of the squad hadn’t been within hearing range. Instead, she pretended to sigh and placed a tiny kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” leveling her gaze with his, she leaned into him a little more. “ _You’re the boss_.”

He really wished she hadn’t done that. Shaking his head at her with a soft _tut_ , he fought the urge to grin like a fucking _animal_ , and reached for his half-empty bottle of ale.

“You two need help,” Unk cackled, reaching between them to grab one of the shots. “It’s a wonder you haven’t been caught already with the way you behave.”

The laugh Iza gave was weak and she seemed to have forgotten all about agreeing to stay away from the alcohol as she plucked one of the glasses from the tray. She’d started to knock it back when Catcher’s hand came up to take it from her, effectively spilling a good portion down her front and making her whine in protest. The stuff burned like fire as it trickled down her throat and she gagged even more than she had on the cheap whiskey, but she still managed to look indignant.

“ _Catcher,_ ” her voice was rough from the alcohol burning her throat.

“I said _no_ ,” setting the glass down, he gestured to Popper to make him move the tray away. “I meant it.”

“You got it all over me!”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” turning his hand up, Catcher watched as Iza plucked at her tunic and pouted at him.

“It _stinks_ ,”

“Little Bit,” pulling her to him again, he sighed and gave her a look. “You’ve had enough.”

“One more wasn’t going to hurt,” she was still looking down at the front of her tunic where the alcohol had seeped through.

“I don’t even know what _that_ is,” he tried _really_ hard not to glance down to where she was staring. She’d tugged the damn thing down so far that a fair bit of cleavage was peeking through and it was _distracting_.

“What about a regular one?” Bringing her green eyes back up to level with his, Iza gave him one of her signature innocent looks and Catcher could feel his resolve start to crumble. Really; she was a fucking _brat_.

“ _One more_ ,” he held a finger up to show her the exact amount, and then looked at the rest of the Stars, who’d been watching with amused smirks on their faces. “None of you better sneak anything to her either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Commander,” Ze snickered, taking one of the strong shots from the tray.

“You’re the boss,” Karver grinned and nearly earned himself a swift kick from the man on the stool.

“Just… get the damn shots.” Looking exasperated, Catcher shook his head and planted his forehead to Iza’s shoulder with a grumble.

“Enjoying the view?” She teased, kissing the top of his head as she ran her fingers up the back of his neck. Getting a quiet snort in return, she had to stifle a gasp when a set of teeth sank into the top of one of her breasts. “ _Catcher,_ ”

“Put them away,” he muttered, tugging the back of her tunic to readjust the neckline. “It’s distracting enough to see so much of your skin.”

“You didn’t have to do _that_ ,” now she was going to be flustered for the rest of the night until they parted ways from the group.

“I’ve done worse,”

“ _Catcher_ ,”

“If the two of you are finished,” Karver interjected, looking a bit uncomfortable when the pair looked over. “Drinks are here,”

“Right,” turning in Catcher’s arms, Iza reached for one of the little glasses and held it up, smiling at the others as they each took one off the tray. “To the Stars!”

“ _To the Stars!_ ”

~*~*~*~

“ _Catcher_ ,” Iza could hardly keep herself still as she pressed her face to Catcher’s shoulder and gripped the front of his tunic.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” his voice was a deep rasp in her ear as he worked his fingers deeper, occasionally brushing his thumb over her clit just to make her squirm. “You’ll get us caught.”

 _She_ was going to get them caught? How about the man who’d basically hauled her out of the club because he couldn’t keep from rubbing all over her? She was pretty sure that if it weren’t for the fact that the back of this place still saw a fair bit of traffic, he’d have her pinned up to the wall with more than just his fingers inside of her.

“I can’t,” if she bit down on him again, she was going to break skin. “ _Catch, please_ ,”

She could feel him grinning against her neck and couldn’t keep from dragging her nails down his back when he focused solely on rubbing his thumb in slow circles until she squeezed her thighs together against his hand.

“Come on, Little Bit,” he taunted, dragging the edges of his teeth over a mark he’d been raising. “Do it for me,”

Dropping her head back against the wall, Iza stuffed the back of her wrist into her mouth to stifle the sound that came out of her as the heat in her belly unfurled and flooded through her. Gripping him for dear life with her other hand, she rocked into the hand he had tucked between her thighs and shivered hard, locking her gaze with his when he picked his head up from the crook of her neck. Grinning slow, Catcher moved Iza’s wrist away from her mouth and kissed her roughly, slowing the motions of his fingers to a stop even as she whimpered in protest.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered against her mouth, snickering when she caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged. “Take it _easy_ , Little Bit,”

“You started it,” he really had. They’d been having fun on the dance floor—as much fun as two drunks with no rhythm could have—and the next thing she knew he’d been grinding all over her like he’d forgotten the place was crowded. Then she’d been dragged out here and he’d stuck his hand down the front of her trousers while whispering all kinds of filth into her ear and that had just about killed all the restraint she had left.

“Would you like to leave?” He still hadn’t moved his hand and was occasionally pumping his fingers into her just to watch her squirm.

“Please?” They hadn’t booked the room yet, but she’d planned far enough in advance to make sure she had enough credits on her chip card to cover the entire night. “Catcher, _please?_ ”

The growl he gave was deep and throaty and it matched the predatory look in his brown eyes _beautifully_ as he tugged his hand free and popped his fingers into his mouth. _Fuck_ , she couldn’t stand it when he did that. It always sparked that sinister fire inside of her she knew she wasn’t _supposed_ to play with.

“Okay,” his kiss was soft and too damn quick for her liking and he left her feeling _so_ vulnerable when he pushed away and took his body heat with him. “We’ll leave.”

She followed him without hesitation, peeling herself away from the wall of the building with another soft whine before reaching out to grab hold of his tunic. She didn’t see the smile that spread across his lips, but his pleased hum made it to her ears as he reached back and hauled her up against his side so they could both stumble around to the front of the club to hail a taxi.

Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist while he signaled for a cab, Catcher smirked faintly as Iza planted her chin in the middle of his chest and gazed at him.

“What’s on your mind, Little Bit?” He had a pretty good idea, but it was always a treat to hear her say it.

“You,” sliding her arms around him, she smiled at the kiss he planted to the top of her head, “You and that awful thing you do when you’re done using your hands on me.”

“Awful?” Both brows went up and he had to try not to look as amused as he felt. “What’s awful about it?”

“You mean besides the fact that you _deliberately_ do it just to fuck with me?” Pursing her lips lightly, she gave a tiny huff. “You always look me dead in the eye when you do it, too.”

“Maybe I have another reason besides taunting you,” shrugging, Catcher wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and gave a playful tug. “Ever think of that?”

“And what reason would _that_ be?”

 _Oh_ , she was cute. It was fucking _adorable_ how innocent she still was even after all this time. This little lady had an appetite for some rather devious things behind closed doors, and yet— _this_ went right over her head. Palming her cheek, Catcher gave another soft hum and lightly brushed his thumb along her bottom lip as he smiled just a fraction wider and tilted his head.

“I could show you later,” the taxi was getting ready to pull up; this was not a conversation they needed to have in front of someone else. “I don’t think _telling_ you will have the same effect.”

Iza wanted to ask him what that meant, but she was quickly ushered into the back of the cab and given one of those pats to her knee that meant she needed to keep quiet. It didn’t stop her from trying to mull it over in her alcohol-addled head. Occasionally, she’d look over at Catcher like she was trying to read his thoughts, squinting and pressing her lips together until she caught the attention of the driver.

“Everything okay back there?” He eyed her in the rearview mirror suspiciously.

“Huh?” Looking every bit as drunk as she felt when she turned to address him, Iza had to wait a minute for the question to sink in before she shook her head and then nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“She’s had a bit much to drink,” Catcher explained with a laugh, pulling her against his side. “Lightweight, this one.”

The driver didn’t look convinced at first, still shifting his gaze between Iza and the traffic ahead until the brunette snuggled into Catcher’s side and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He seemed to relax after that, only checking on her every so often while occasionally letting his eyes drift to Catcher like he didn’t completely trust him.

“He’s my husband,” Iza said finally, slurring lightly as she spoke. Beside her, she could feel Catcher tense; he definitely hadn’t expected that out of her. Grinning at the cabbie when he stared at her in the mirror, she put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” nodding lightly, he appeared to shake off the shock before turning his attention back to simply driving and minding his own damn business.

Beside her, Catcher gave her a nudge and Iza had to suppress a smile before looking up at him adoringly.

“Yes?”

“ _Husband?_ ” He mouthed, raising an eyebrow at her, looking like he was trying _very_ hard not to grin.

Shrugging, she took his hand and laced their fingers together, giving a light squeeze as her answer. This only made Catcher huff out a quiet laugh and lean in to give her a quick kiss. Okay, he could get on board with that. He was pretty sure neither of them were even allowed to get married, but hey—who the hell cared? Silence fell over the cab after that, aside from the music the driver was listening to, and they only perked back to attention when the vehicle pulled up alongside the walkpath outside of their usual hostel.

“You two take care,” the cabbie saluted them after being handed his credits, closing the doors and zipping back out into the traffic while Iza and Catcher took a moment to find their bearings.

“Well sweetheart,” wrapping her up in his arms from behind, Catcher propped his chin atop her head and gave her a squeeze. “Any more surprises you want to spring on me before we go inside?”

“No,” she smiled and giggled when he dropped his head to playfully kiss her neck. “I am a little curious about something, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you?”

“Would I, what?” Tilting his head to look at her, Catcher raised an eyebrow and nudged her to get her to start walking towards the door.

“Be my husband?”

Catcher damn near tripped himself on the heel of Iza’s boot, bumping into her solidly enough to knock her forward so that he had to grab her so she wouldn’t fall. Both of them held onto each other while laughing it off like the drunken fools they were, continuing to stumble their way into the hostel where the desk clerk sat watching. He didn’t even blink as he clicked his tongue and messed with something on the datapad in front of him, setting a pass on the surface of the desk for them to take on their way up the stairs. It was getting to the point where they might as well just rent a room permanently, but Iza didn’t need the charges showing up on the banking statements. It was hard enough to explain them when they showed up; figuring out a new lie for why she had a residence separate from the Temple would bring problems.

Once they’d gotten into their room, Iza pouted up at him and pulled him close again; reaching up to grasp his chin in the same manner he liked to do to her.

“Catch,” her voice took on a more serious tone and she smiled as he ran his fingertips down her wrist. “Would you?”

Leaning in, Catcher placed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead, lingering there for a long time. When he finally sighed and pulled back to look at her, she couldn't quite read the look in his eyes and it made her panic. That cold, suffocating feeling of dread plopped right down on her chest like a content Tooka and Iza felt her face start to wither before she could do anything about it.

“Sweetheart,” hot palms came up to cradle her face before he started kissing her cheeks and whispering apologies. He hadn’t meant to scare her. Catcher was just so damn drunk that he’d gotten lost in admiring how fucking _perfect_ she looked while asking if he’d ever consider making their relationship permanent. “Of course, Little Bit. _Of course I would_.”

“You’re so _mean_ ,” she breathed, grasping at his tunic as the pins and needles sensation of relief flooded her and washed away the sick feeling of dread. “ _Force_ , you’re so mean to me, Catcher,”

“I know, sweetheart,” he felt horrible for it, too. “I know I am.”

Shutting her eyes once he’d rested his forehead to hers, Iza let out a strained laugh and gave a good tug to his tunic.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” skimming his lips over the fresh scar on her cheek, Catcher pulled her in as tightly as he comfortably could. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I really didn’t.”

She knew. Deep down, Iza knew Catcher never meant to do any of the things that scared her half to death.

“When?” Pulling back to look at her, he raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh at the bewildered expression that crossed her face.

“What?”

“ _When_ would you like to make me your husband, Little Bit?”

Was _now_ too soon? Waiting until the end of the War was out of the question, and she wasn’t going to ask anyone’s permission. The only thing they’d need was someone to perform the ceremony. She had _no_ idea who to ask, either.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” A tentative smile played on her lips and earned her a laugh out of him. “I’m not kidding!”

“I know you’re not,” he kissed the bridge of her nose. “I think tomorrow was supposed to be spent sleeping all of this off, but,” shrugging, Catcher gave her chin a pinch. “I’m free if you are.”

“I’ve got nowhere to be,” thank the _Force_ for having been left to die on a crappy planet; it came with the benefit of a few days off. “I’m all yours.”

“Then tomorrow sounds just fine to me.”

Bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet, Iza slung her arms around Catcher’s shoulders and buried her face in his chest with a soft squeal. His deep chuckle made her whole heart swell and burst in happiness, filling her with absolute joy and expelling what little doubt she had left in her. It would be another addition to the secret they were already keeping from the universe, but it was one that was well worth having all to themselves. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this would change anything. Would it make it even more difficult for her to concentrate on the battlefield? Or would it make her even more focused than before? Only time would tell.

“So,” his lips brushed over her ear as he skimmed his hands to her hips, squeezing enough to elicit a soft gasp from her. “About what we were talking about at the bar…”

Leaning back to look at him curiously, the brunette exhaled harshly through her nose at the way he was gazing at her. _Oh_ —well his mood certainly had shifted quickly, hadn’t it? Catcher always did have a _specific_ way he liked to celebrate things.

“What about it?” And of course, playing coy was _her_ favorite way of goading him.

“I think,” he’d started backing her towards the bed, hands moving to fuss with her belt and get her trousers undone. “I’d like to show you something _new_ , Little Bit,”

“New?” _Hell_ , her breathing was already becoming labored as he popped buttons and tugged the ties loose, a tiny shout of surprise bubbling in her throat when the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. Allowing him to settle her down on top of the mattress, Iza bit down on her bottom lip as she patiently watched him get her boots undone before stripping everything else off. “Catch?”

“You asked me why, didn’t you?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about the smile he gave before he playfully bit into the top of her thigh. “And I told you it wasn’t something that couldn’t be _explained_.”

Surely he wasn’t going to…?

“You look nervous,” _man_ , that mouth was hot. Iza was having a hard time keeping still as he kissed his way up the inside of one thigh and down the other. His dark eyes shined wickedly in the light coming in from the window as he turned and grazed his teeth against the soft skin he’d just kissed. “If you don’t want me to—”

“I didn’t say that,” perhaps she’d been too quick to blurt that out. Her whole body seemed to heat in shame for feeling so _eager_. “I just…”

“You’ve done it for me,” he reminded her, leaning over to nip a line along her belly, snickering at the startled noise she made.

“I’m…” she couldn’t breathe. What was he saying? “I’m supposed to…” At least that’s what she’d heard.

He looked _extremely_ amused by this. Giving burning little kisses to her hips Catcher snickered and shook his head, smoothing his palms up and down along her thighs.

“Is that right?”

“Catch,” she’d started squirming the longer he spent just touching and kissing her skin and Iza was starting to feel an incredibly overwhelming sense of _need_. “Are you sure?”

“Little Bit,” resting his chin lightly against her belly, he offered an easy smile and quirked a brow. “Are _you_ sure?”

She was going to chew a hole in her bottom lip if she wasn’t careful. Still shifting around as Catcher waited patiently for an answer—it did _not_ help that his fingers were dragging over her skin so temptingly—Iza gave the tiniest nod of her head and was met with a wild grin. The hand she’d lifted to try and touch his face clamped down over her mouth when he bowed his head and kissed his way between her thighs, her teeth cutting into her fingers to stifle the sound she made as he slowed and taunted her with soft passes of his lips against the creases where her thighs met her pelvis.

“Iza,” _shit_ —he was using that gruff tone of his; the one he _knew_ turned her entire body to jelly. “You’re shaking.”

“I can’t…” if his damn shoulders weren’t in the way, she’d be able to close her legs and maybe she wouldn’t feel so fucking vulnerable. “I can’t _help it_ , Catcher.”

“Relax, Little Bit,” reaching up to gently remove her hand from her mouth, Catcher brought it to his lips and kissed the dents she’d made with her teeth.

“Can’t do that either,” her fingers gripped the bedding as soon as he released her hand and she let out a quiet whine when he shifted closer and encouraged her to drape her legs over his shoulders. “ _Catcher, **please**_ ,”

His response was another amused quirk of a brow and then quite possibly the lightest kiss he could have ever pressed to her flesh. It made her tense and hold her breath, only to blow it out in a heavy moan when he followed it up with a tentative pass of his tongue. Cussing at the ceiling, Iza threw her arms over her face to try and smother the noise, though it did absolutely no good when he pressed closer and hummed quietly to himself.

There was little technique or finesse to what he was doing, but it _honestly_ made no difference. Each slow drag of his tongue across slick flesh was enough to make the young Jedi twist on the bed and dig her feet into his back, her muffled whimpering making him want to grin smugly. But it was when he pulled back and began focusing his efforts on her clit that she really came undone and _boy_ , was that a treat to watch. She’d arched her back clear off the bed and stayed that way, breathing in short rasps as her thighs trembled on either side of his head. Eventually, she’d started smacking a hand down on the bed and making an almost pained noise, so Catcher simply went back to the longer, languid strokes instead.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Iza didn’t know what to do with her damn legs anymore. She wanted to open them, close them, stretch them out along his back and throw them to the sky all at the same time. Everything _burned_ and _ached_ and she had to fight to keep her hands out of his hair because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep from pulling it all out of his head. That all flew out the window the moment he got bold enough to seal his lips over her flesh and _suck_. It was such a gentle, experimental move, but Iza’s fingers still flew deep into his hair and held on for dear life as she involuntarily pushed her hips up against his mouth. “ ** _Catcher_** _,_ ”

Looking up at her from his place between her thighs, he seemed to grin without ever pausing once. Her desperate whimpers were what had him leaning back—much to her dismay—to return to the featherlight touches instead.

“Something wrong?”

“ _I will kill you_ ,” she didn’t mean to say it but she _hated_ it when he did that. He seemed to get off on denying her release and it kick started her anger like nothing else.

“Oh sweetheart,” focusing on her clit once more, he practically growled at the vicious tug to his hair that followed. “ _You better be nice_.”

She dropped her hands almost immediately and wriggled on the bed against the sharp sensation. _Force_ , that was too much—but _perfect_ at the same time. Her back bowed again and he took the opportunity to grasp her hips in his hands, pulling her closer and using just the pad of his tongue until Iza’s body locked up entirely and she let out a shivery wail of his name. He had not, however, expected her to clamp her thighs against his head as tightly as she did and found that he could do little more than continue the slow passes until she relaxed again and started pushing at his shoulders.

“ _Stop, Catch—_ ”

He’d already started crawling over her, biting and kissing his way up her torso in between growling breaths. He lifted his arms for her when she clawed his tunic up over his head, nudging his hips between hers to rock against her with a lazy grin that knew full well how sensitive she still was. He caught her hands when they started to grab for the bed again, bringing them to the front of his trousers so her shaking fingers could get the buttons undone for him. He should’ve known that she’d squeeze him through the dense material; little brat that she was, she’d do anything to goad him into hurrying the fuck up.

Tempted as he was to pin her hands and taunt her, Catcher found that he had very little patience for _waiting_ at the moment as well. Brushing her hands off, he shoved his trousers down over his hips far enough to free himself and shifted between her knees again to line himself up. There was no hesitation as he pressed forward with a low groan, dropping his head to bury it in the crook of her neck. Iza was given a solid ten seconds to adjust before he started moving and she sounded just as pleased as he did when he spared little mercy on her hips. Her nails were sharp as they dragged down his neck and scratched along his shoulders, teeth just as savage when they met the swell of his shoulder and sank in deep. He was in such a daze from everything—the alcohol, the proposal, _the taste of her still fresh on his tongue_ —that Catcher couldn’t be mindful of himself for more than a few seconds at a time.

He listened for the tiny protesting whimpers, stayed alert for harsher bites and scratches that would tell him he’d been too rough—they never came—and lost himself in her completely. He only heard the soft, sweet whisperings of his name alongside the pleas for him to finish and join her in the hazy bliss they both loved to bask in together. The heavy pressure at the base of his spine became too hot, too much to bear as Catcher growled against Iza’s neck and grabbed for her hips to hold her where he wanted her, delighting in the shout she gave and the _perfect_ way she seemed to squeeze her entire body around him. His hips stuttered upon the first wave of his release, one hand losing its grip on Iza’s hip to brace against the bed and keep him from falling against her as he continued working himself into her until he was spent.

Cussing and sputtering lightly, he carefully lowered himself against her chest, melting into her when her soft hands stroked through his hair and down over his bunched shoulders. For a while, only the sound of their heavy breathing and the traffic outside could be heard until Iza let out the quietest of giggles and kissed his ear.

“You kept your boots on.”

Picking his head up, he looked back at his feet and groaned when he saw that she was right. Letting out a breathless laugh, Catcher rested against her shoulder again and kissed it.

“Guess so.” Eyeing her a moment, he gave a weak tug to the tunic she still wore. “You’ve still got this on.”

“You’re the one who insisted on taking off everything below the belt.” Shooting him a pointed look, Iza smirked for half a second before her face went scarlet and she turned away from him.

“What’s _this?_ ” Shifting around above her so he wasn’t putting so much of his weight on her, Catcher gave her chin a nudge with a crooked finger. “Why are you shy all of a sudden?”

Even as Catcher demanded her attention, Iza found it difficult to shift her eyes to him without pressing her lips together and blushing harder. It didn’t help _at all_ when an amused smile began to curl his lips and she started to focus her attention on his mouth and then immediately turned her head and covered her face.

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” chuckling quietly, he dipped his head and kissed the shell of her ear. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t look at you.” She muttered, sounding distressed.

“Why not?” He probably found this more amusing than she did. The whine that followed his question was proof enough of that.

“ _Coz,_ ”

Giving her ear a playful tug with his teeth, Catcher worked his way to her neck and was surprised by just how quickly her breathing began to pick up again. _Oh_ —okay. Now he understood.

“Little Bit,” yes, he would be an asshole and give one of the bite marks on her neck a slow lick just to fuck with her. “You have to look at me eventually.”

“ _Force_ , Catcher— _don’t do that_ ,”

“Do what?” Skimming his hand up underneath the tunic she still wore, he busied himself with cupping a breast and teasing the nipple with light pinches, his eyes lighting up when she squirmed under him. “Sweetheart?”

“ _What?_ ” Her edgy tone didn’t hold enough bite to deter him just yet.

“You know I’ll be thinking about it now too, right?” Nuzzling into her neck, Catcher nipped sharply at a spot and soothed the sting with his tongue. “Because I _know_ that from now on, when I smile at you—” _sweet Maker_ , she was already trying to discreetly rock against him, wasn’t she? “—that’s exactly what you’ll be thinking of.”

Turning her head to finally look at him, Iza leaned in and kissed him hard enough to bruise, sliding her hand into his hair and tugging until he groaned into her mouth.

“ _You’re **mean** ,_” she breathed, unable to help the way she shivered when he pulled out and shifted away from her. “ _Catch_ —”

“Shh,” delivering a much softer, deeper kiss this time around, he smiled and trailed a fingertip down the side of her face. “We have _all night_ , Little Bit. You could at least let a man get his shoes off.”

Pouting some, she pretended to roll her eyes and nodded.

“All right, _fine_.”

“Thank you,” kissing the end of her nose, Catcher sat up and gave her thigh an affectionate pat. “You’re such a fucking _brat_.”


	13. I Don't Need You to Save Me

“Jedi Tacor,”

When was the last time Iza had sat down and talked to her Master face-to-face? _Really_ sat down and talked to him? She recalled the night in the Medcenter when she’d confessed to things she’d never intended to tell anyone, but beyond that—they’d only seemed to speak to each other in passing or when they _had_ to. Their relationship seemed to be dwindling and it was hard to tell whether it was the fault of the war or _her_ fault alone.

“Master,” giving an easy smile, she bowed her head and tucked her hands in front of her as he approached, unable to read his expression.

“I’ve heard some… curious things recently. I’d like to talk to you, if you have a moment.”

She didn’t have to be at the base for another hour. Surely she could spare some of that time for him.

“Of course,” gesturing for him to follow her toward the garden, she kept her pace slow and did her best not to start frantically worrying about what the hell it was he wanted to talk to her about.

“You brought the subject of Grey Jedi up to Master Skywalker recently,” _Oh no_ , “In turn, he brought it up to Master Obi-Wan—”

“Who decided to come to _you_ , right?” So much for trusting Obi-Wan; she hoped he kept darker secrets better than this.

“Only for information,” giving her a curious look, Windu canted his head and studied her. “Do you want to tell me why you brought this up to Skywalker?”

Well, she might as well come clean.

“I’ve been conflicted as of late, Master,” gesturing lightly with her hands, Iza sighed heavily and refused to meet his gaze. “I still believe very much in the things we stand for, but I find myself… struggling. It’s like the Force knows I’m not meant for this. I _am_ meant to be a Jedi just… _not like you_.”

Windu rubbed his chin with a thoughtful thumb, though the look in his eyes never seemed to change. She waited for him to tell her that she wasn’t trying hard enough, that she’d allowed her _obsession_ with keeping her men safe on the battlefield consume her and that it had pulled her from her path. She just knew he would tell her that her inability to _feel_ and _be mindful_ of what those feelings did to her were sending her straight down the path of the Dark Side—the fabled Center Path was just that: _a fable_.

“I know,”

It was like being punched in the mouth, really, the way he said it. Like he was so damn sure of himself that he’d just been waiting the entire time for her to say something to prove him right.

“What?”

“I’ve always known,” he said it so fucking _casually_ , too. Like they were discussing how the weather on Kamino never changed, or the ridiculous changes the Chancellor was making to the laws as of late.

“I have a real funny feeling you’re about to tell me you couldn’t _interfere_ because of the Force,” the man had Visions; everyone knew that. Should it have not surprised her to know that her Master might have known since the beginning that she’d never make it as a True Jedi?

“I’ve only known that you would not follow _my_ path, Tacor,” he explained, moving to sit down on a nearby bench. Waiting for Iza to join him, Windu continued, “I did my best to make sure it wasn’t the _wrong_ path and I believe I’ve accomplished that. But you’ve made yourself confused, and that—perhaps—is my fault. The Grey Jedi are… of legend.”

“What?” That wasn’t right; she was sure she’d seen something _somewhere_ in the archives about them. “But you told me of a _Code_ , Master Windu. You said they existed. _You_ _told me_.”

“Not to the Order.” Was this his way of telling her that she was going to be expelled? If she continued on the way she was, would they take her lightsaber and ask her to leave?

“So it was all just comfort words, then?” She couldn’t look at him. “Another layer of _padding_ to keep me safe from a Fall, Master?”

“Tacor—”

“You want to keep me in this Order so _desperately_ that you’d _lie_ to me,” a finger twirled around a stray piece of hair and before she even realized it, Iza was giving in to an old itch she hadn’t needed to scratch in _months_. “You knew I was struggling. You knew I wanted to leave. And instead of offering guidance… _you lied to me_.”

“It was never a lie, Iza,” Windu insisted, watching her turn to look at him. “The Order simply does not acknowledge that the Center Path exists. Those who seek it are not—”

“Jedi. We’re not Jedi.” Her laugh was humorless and dry, the tug she gave to her hair perhaps a bit too vicious.

“Iza,” despite his neutral expression, Master Windu seemed genuinely concerned by her reaction. Maybe he could feel the heat of the rage building in the center of her chest; she sure as hell hoped so.

“I worked so hard for this,” dropping her head forward, Iza silently willed herself not to cry. She was almost too furious to bother. “I put myself through _hell_ to get here. I let you humiliate me. I let you convince me that I was _necessary_ to the Order—and you _chastised_ me for doing what I was taught to do.” Just above her right eye, an icy throb started and slowly began to creep backwards across her scalp. “I had my faults. I know I’m to blame for a lot of things, too. But you… you’re supposed to be my _Master_. And you’re telling me that if I continue, I’ll no longer be important enough to this Order? Or will I just not be _important_ enough for _you_ , Master?”

“Reel it in, Tacor,” he was starting to get a look in his eye she didn’t like. That same damn look he got when she was a teenager and questioned some of his teachings or if she pried too much into things she’d heard around the Temple. “Your mind is shadowed. You’ve allowed yourself to be consumed by your emotions and you’ve lost—”

“I’ve lost _nothing_ , Master Windu.” Her head was really beginning to hurt now and it was hard to keep her eye open in this light. Getting to her feet, she rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye and started to head inside with him at her heels.

“Jedi Tacor,” she couldn’t tell if it was concern in his tone or mild anger. “Where are you going?”

“I have an appointment to keep.”

“We are not finished with this conversation.”

“I think we’ve been finished with this conversation for a long time, Master,” she shrugged a shoulder, still rubbing at her eye. “And there’s nothing more for us to say to each other. We’re not on the same path anymore, Master Windu. I’m sorry.”

“They won’t let you stay on as a General,” he warned when she’d started walking again. “You’ll lose those men.”

If she hadn’t been in so much pain, Iza might have laughed.

“You say that like I don’t know. I’ve weighed every option, Master. I know what I want.”

“You’re stronger than this, Jedi.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Iza needed to get out of here and get to the damn base. Maybe she could get some of those neat little drugs she’d been given before and get rid of this damned headache. As she walked briskly down the hall with her hand over one eye to keep the light out, she unclipped her lightsaber and threw it to the ground. _Fuck it_. She wouldn’t be coming back in here anyway. They could keep the damn thing. She’d gotten pretty decent with a blaster as of late and she could always make a new one.

She really should have anticipated the hand that snatched her by the elbow as soon as she got outside, but her head felt like it was splitting in two and she’d hardly been able to concentrate on walking straight.

“Hey—”

“What are you _doing?_ ” Anakin’s hands were not at all gentle when he turned her around and waved her lightsaber in her face. “ _What is this?_ ”

“Let go,” pushing at him with her free hand, she let out a soft noise when he took hold of her wrist and tried to press the hilt into her palm. Iza wouldn’t take it and simply let it fall from her fingers and clatter at their feet.

“ _Iza_ ,” stooping to pick it up again, Anakin grunted when she kneed his shoulder to shove him off, snatching her by the back of her robes to keep her from running off. “ _Stop!_ ”

She’d had enough. She was so sick of him always putting his damn hands on her when she never asked him to and ignoring her whenever she told him to back off. Twisting, Iza aimed a punch that kissed the corner of his chin and made him lose his grip on her and the lightsaber he held.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Covering his mouth, the younger man stared at her over his hands with a mixture of shock and anger in his eyes. Iza wanted to shake her hand out and make sure she hadn’t busted her damn knuckles, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. Raising a shaking hand to point at him, she took a few steps back.

“ _Don’t_ ,” it was so hard to keep her eye open and she knew she must’ve looked ridiculous with the way her eyelid kept fluttering. “Just let me go,”

“You can’t,” _damn_ , that was a lot of blood, wasn’t it? He was going to have a fat lip later, too. “Iza, the Order—”

“Is no longer my concern,” watching him spit another wad of blood and saliva onto the concrete, Iza pulled herself to her full height and gestured to the Temple behind them. “This place is a _lie_ , Anakin. I will not stay somewhere I feel unimportant—and this _Order_ doesn’t need me. The Army does.”

“They won’t let you serve, Iza. You’re not a Clone.”

“They need soldiers, Anakin,” sneering, Iza took another step back when Anakin moved forward. “They don’t care where they come from.”

“You can’t just _leave_ , Iza!”

Smiling even as the stabbing feeling in her skull radiated down the side of her face, Iza threw her arms out at her sides and looked around.

“Do you see anyone else trying to stop me?” Tilting her head lightly as she shrugged, the brunette heaved a sigh and dropped her arms. “They don’t care, Anakin. The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be.”

“They _do_ care!” He hesitated like he wanted to move closer again but wasn’t willing to get punched in the mouth again for it. “You know they do, Iza.”

“I’ll see you, Anakin,” offering one last smile, Iza turned and started to walk away. “Don’t follow me. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Your lightsaber—”

“Tell Master Windu they can throw it in with the collection they keep for the rest of the rejects.”

“ _Iza, come on!_ ”

But she just kept walking, picking up the pace and hoping he wouldn’t follow. She really didn’t want to hurt him if she didn’t have to. In the state she was in right now, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold back. When it seemed as though he wasn’t going to follow, Iza allowed herself to slow down and catch her breath. Her head was pounding and it was hard to focus with just one eye open. Walking all the way to the base was going to be a damn chore. Ducking down an alley, she pulled her comm disk from her back pouch and tapped the button on the side.

“General?”

“Popper,” rubbing at her face with her free hand, she wished she’d turned off the holo transmission; he didn’t need to see her like this. “I need a pick up.”

“Roger that, sir. I’m on my way.”

~*~*~*~

“You haven’t had a headache in forever,” Catcher frowned as he worked his fingertips against Iza’s scalp. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” leaning into his chest, the brunette shut her eyes and tried to relax as much as she could. Had a headache ever lasted this long before? “I need to speak to Rex.”

“Not right now, you don’t,” his frown deepened as he dropped one hand away and lifted her chin, studying her face for a long moment until Iza turned away and rubbed at her eye again. “What have you done?”

“I didn’t… _Catcher don’t_ ,” she grit her teeth when he grabbed her jaw again and all but forced her to look at him again. Exhaling in a harsh huff, she scowled and batted at his hand. “Will you stop?!”

“Tell me,” he insisted, tightening his hold just a fraction. He wouldn’t hurt her if she chose to jerk away, but Catcher wasn’t going to let her lie her way out of this. Iza hadn’t had a migraine in months; whatever had triggered this must’ve been bad.

“I left,” she didn’t have to look into his eyes if she didn’t want to. He couldn’t make her do _that_.

“You… _what?_ ”

“I _left_ , Catcher,” smacking at his hand again, she pulled away completely and dragged both hands through her hair. “Don’t fucking give out to me for it, either. I’m staying _here_. I’m _serving_.”

“You…” Could she do that? He’d only ever seen his brothers out on the battlefield. “You can’t…”

“Why not? I’ve seen plenty of troops who weren’t Clones or Jedi,” peeking at him through her fingers she somehow managed to give him a filthy look. “I haven’t _Fallen_ , Catcher. I just… I don’t belong to the Order anymore. Let me talk to Rex.”

“I don’t think the Captain can help you, sweetheart.”

“Then the Chancellor will,” it wasn’t a card she wanted to pull but if it meant staying close to Catcher and the Stars, then she’d do it. “If Rex can’t—I can go to the Chancellor.”

“Little Bit,” cupping her face in his hands, Catcher smoothed them back into her hair to continue trying to soothe her stupid headache. “Why? Why would you do this?”

Iza stared at something over his shoulder and ignored the sound of someone coming into the barracks. It wasn’t as though nobody had ever seen him treat her headaches before.

“I know what my purpose is, Catch. It’s not to be a fucking Jedi. It was never to be a Jedi.” Letting out a soft sound when he pressed his fingers into the points at the back of her neck, Iza reached up to grab his wrist and dug her nails in as she shut her eyes.

“What’s your purpose, then?” His tone was unreadable, but the grip he had on the back of her neck was enough to relay his feelings on the matter.

“Catch,” she cringed and squirmed a little, pushing a hand against his chest before giving a soft smack to the spot. “ _Catcher_ , that hurts,”

He relaxed his hand, cupping the back of her head instead.

“What is your purpose, Iza?”

“My purpose is to fight, Catcher,” _man_ —she hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been holding on until he’d let go. “I’m meant to fight and to lead. I can’t do that with them looming over me.”

“Where’s your head at?”

Staring at him, Iza squinted a little and leaned back.

“Where’s _yours?_ ”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Catcher dropped his gaze and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Little Bit, you know what I’m asking you.”

“Look at me, Catcher,” throwing her arms out at her sides, she gave a bitter laugh. “Would I fucking be _here_ if my head was where you think it is? _This is where I want to be_. Right here. With you. Fighting this stupid war _with_ **_you_**.”

“That isn’t your duty, Iza.”

“My duty? My fucking _duty_ , Catcher?” Brushing his hand off of her Iza pushed herself to her feet and nearly knocked herself out on the top bunk above them. When he took hold of her robes to stop her, she yanked them out of his grip and fixed him with a hard glare. “If _they_ don’t get to tell me what I’m going to do with my life, neither do you. I made my decision. I’m _sorry_ if you think I’ve deserted my post—or whatever the hell’s running through your head right now—but this is what I want! _This is **my** choice, **my** path!_”

“And you’re _my_ wife!” Hissing through clenched teeth so the others in the barracks wouldn’t hear, Catcher tried to pull her to him again and growled when Iza swatted his hands away. “I hate it enough when you’re out there with us! What made you think I would approve of this?”

“ _Approve?_ ” The half-smile that made it to her lips was one of disbelief and suppressed anger; there was no humor to be found in her eyes at all. “I don’t need your fucking approval to do anything, Catcher.”

“You could have at least _told_ me.”

“You _knew_.” Poking her tongue into her cheek, Iza shot him a pointed look. “You’ve known for a long time that I wanted to leave the Order and, for a _very long time_ , I let you convince me that staying was the best option. It’s _not_. You know what it was doing to me to stay there. How can you sit there and criticize me for leaving when you _know—_ ”

“Iza—that damn Temple was the only place you were _safe!_ ” Finally getting to his feet, Catcher came up close enough for their chests to nearly touch, but the brunette refused to back down from him. The defiant look on her face had him shutting his eyes for half a second before he brought his hands up and cupped her head in his palms. “Little Bit, you’re so fucking _stubborn_. _Yes_ I know, sweetheart— _nobody knows better than I do_. But you were **safe** there.”

“For how long?” Shrugging, Iza swallowed the lump rising in her throat and pressed her lips together tightly in an effort to keep her jaw still. “How long before the war comes to the Temple, Catch? I tell you—I feel a lot safer in these barracks surrounded by you and your brothers than I do with a bunch of Jedi who _don’t care_ when one of their own walks out.”

“Nobody stopped you?” Running his thumb along her cheek, he frowned. That sounded strange to him; he’d always seen the Jedi Order as another type of brotherhood.

“Anakin tried,” _this_ would go over well. “But if you mean someone like my Master? No. No, he just let me walk out.”

“You didn’t listen to Anakin?” Damn him and those stupid brown eyes of his. Why did he have to go and make her feel so fucking guilty with just a _look?_

“He’s not in any place to tell me what to do, Catcher,” if she thought she could get away with just shutting her eyes, she would’ve done it. “He wants to walk. He just doesn’t have the guts.”

“So this is you showing him up again?”

“ **No** — _for the love of_ —why are you fighting me? Why?” Reaching to take hold of the front of his black undersuit, Iza gave Catcher as much of a shake as she could. “We are _halfway_ to everything we’ve ever wanted. Why are you fighting me?”

“Sweetheart,” he was trying so hard to be patient with her. He also really wanted to put her up against the wall so she’d listen better, but he had a bad feeling that wouldn’t go over well with his brothers milling about. “You leaving the Order _wasn’t_ part of the plan.”

“Plans change.”

“So am I supposed to abandon post, too?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I told you—I’m staying _here_.”

“And what will you do if no one grants you the privilege?”

“They will,” she sounded so damn sure of herself. “They let you do anything when you’re willing to die for the Republic, Catch.”

“You piss me off so much, do you know that?” He couldn’t be bothered to try and save face as he bowed his head and pressed his lips to the spot between her eyes. If someone saw, then they saw; he didn’t give a shit at the moment. “Little Bit, you should have _waited_.”

“For what?” she whispered, shutting her eyes when he settled his head against hers. “For them to kick me out on _their_ terms? Or for the war to end? Because I feel like we’ll be waiting much longer for that and I’m not a patient person, Catch.”

“You really aren’t,” his laugh was soft and meant to tease. “ _Maker’s sake_ , you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“I wasn’t gonna last, Catch,” letting go of the front of his undersuit, Iza dropped her arms around his waist and pulled him in closer. To hell with it; half this damn battalion had an idea of what was going on anyway and it wasn’t like they could run and tattle to the Council anymore. “Even Master Windu knew it was just a matter of time before they dropped me. One more outburst on the battlefield, or if _we_ got too careless…”

“We’re already careless, Little Bit,” smiling, he sighed and lightly curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

“But it only seems to matter to _one side_.” Gesturing to the others who were just minding their own damn business, she shrugged. “Your brothers are loyal and supportive enough to turn the other cheek. I had to beg Master Kenobi to keep quiet.”

“I was there, sweetheart,” he’d gone back to gently massaging the pressure points at the base of her skull, unsure if she even needed the treatment anymore. “I remember.”

“Only one person in that entire Temple truly held any loyalty to me, and he had no damn right or reason to.”

“And you ignored his pleas for you to stay,” tilting his head, Catcher studied her for a long time. “Why?”

“ _This_ is where I belong. Stop trying to make me doubt my decision. It won’t change anything. I can’t go back.”

“I know,” he kissed the end of her nose. “I know, Little Bit.”

“I’ve told you so many times Catch,” Iza brought her hand up to touch his face, tracing her fingers along the scar marring his chin as she locked her gaze with his. “My loyalty to _you_ outweighs any I ever had to the Order. Whether you like it or not, _this_ is the most important thing to me. _Us_.”

“Iza—”

“Don’t,” she pressed her fingers to his lips, wanting him to just _be silent_ for a few minutes. “Catcher, please. This doesn’t change any vow I made to keep fighting. I’m just not doing it from a fucking tower anymore. _This_ is where I belong.”

“It’s not,” he murmured against her fingertips, pressing light kisses to them before he took hold of her hand. “You deserve more than a smelly barrack full of men, sweetheart.”

“And we will have more. We just need to be patient.”

Catcher laughed outright, the sound echoing off the durasteel walls. Dropping his head to muffle his laughter against her shoulder, he wound his arms tight around her waist and hugged her to him with a slow shake of his head and an exasperated sounding sigh.

“Do you think you can be patient, Little Bit?” He asked, humming into her hair. “Or should I be prepared to start planet hopping because you couldn’t wait long enough to start a new life— _again?_ ”

“I can be patient,” nodding, she reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair, shutting her eyes as she sagged against his chest. “I promise I can.”

Plating a kiss to her jaw, Catcher straightened and playfully pinched her chin.

“You’d better be.” He was smiling, but Iza knew he was damn serious. “Because between forcing yourself up in the ranks to become a General, and getting me a promotion that we both know I hadn’t earned yet—this takes the cake.”

“When I want something, I get it, Catcher,” giving him a look, Iza gave a light tug to the strands of hair between her fingers. “People only say _no_ if you let them.”

“Just don’t let that power go to your head,” his smile dimmed to a simple half-smirk, his thumb rubbing lightly along the curve of her bottom lip. “Now—come on. Let’s figure out where the Captain is hiding so we can see what we can do about getting you _enlisted._ ”

~*~*~*~

“That’s distracting.” Ze muttered as he turned over on his bed to face away from where Iza was busy trying on her new gear.

It had taken a fair bit of effort for her to be shoved onto the list with the rest of the troopers, but after a _long_ visit to the Chancellor—who seemed almost _pleased_ to know that she’d stepped down from the Order to serve in the Army—she’d been given the right to enlist. Granted, it’d taken about three days for all the paperwork to clear and another two for the armor to arrive, but she’d still be the General to the Stars—who’d been swallowed up by the 501st, no thanks to Anakin. He hadn’t even waited for her to be gone twelve hours before taking them into his battalion, but she supposed it wasn’t _entirely_ terrible. At least she’d know that they’d be well looked after if she hadn’t been given her spot in the Army. She wasn’t, however, pleased with the idea that she’d _technically_ be answering to him even if he _had_ insisted she maintain her rank among the men. Anakin certainly had a lot of pull with the Chancellor; she’d give him that.

“I thought she’d be getting her own spot,” Unk was having a difficult time _not_ shifting his eyes to the woman, who currently stood in just the standard glove-like undersuit and boots, looking frustrated with the thigh plates. “You didn’t say she’d be in here with us, Catcher.”

“It’d be kind of pointless to give her a barrack all to herself when we’re already packed in like sardines, Unk,” Catcher was fully aware of the countless other pairs of eyes that were shamelessly watching while his wife tried to figure out which pieces went where. “ _Little Bit,_ that’s for your hand.”

Looking up from trying to fit what she thought was a shoulder plate to her _shoulder_ , the brunette made a face and tossed it back onto her bunk.

“I’ve never put any of this _on_ ,” she couldn’t say she’d only ever helped take it off. “How the _hell_ do you guys—”

“You’re overthinking it, Sir,” Popper said casually, not looking up from the datapad in his lap. “It’s just armor. I think your fancy Jedi robes are more complicated than Clone armor.”

“Helps if you don’t have it piled up like that, too,” Karver pointed out, gesturing to the mess she’d made on her bed. “You’ve got two of almost everything. Set it up in pairs and let instinct guide you. You’ll know what goes where.”

“Maybe stop bending over so much,”

“ _Ze_ ,” Catcher’s growl was deep and threatening and it made quite a few of his brothers look over in his direction. But Ze only waved a hand at him and muttered something under his breath about not wanting to be disrespectful.

“Catch, help me with this,” Iza’s pouty tone caught the Clone’s attention and he got up to see what she’d gotten stuck on this time.

“Little Bit, I won’t always be able to do this,” taking the helmet from her, he showed her where the back loosened so it was easier to slip on, and then showed her how to lock it into place again. “You have to do it by yourself.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” giving him a look, she took the helmet from him and slipped it on over her head. The thing was not comfortable and it made her feel ridiculous, especially with the way her hair trailed out of the back. Maybe she’d need to pull it up or just not wear the damn thing at all.

“You’re the one that wanted to do this, Little Bit,” shrugging, Catcher tried not to smirk as she bent to grab another piece of the armor and lightly banged her helmeted head against the bunk. “Watch yourself.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” reaching up to take it off again, Iza tossed the bucket onto the bed with everything else and sat down. “I can’t _see_ in that.”

“Then don’t use it.”

“I think I _have_ to, don’t I?”

“It’s regulation, but you can go bald if you want.” Giving another shrug, Catcher sat beside her and settled a hand against her back. “You look tired.”

“I _am_ tired.” Picking up her remaining bicep brace, she slipped it on and picked up the chest plate next. “I’m always tired when I have to go talk to the Chancellor.”

“But that was a few days ago.”

“You’ve never sat down with the man, have you?” She already knew the answer to that. “He’s… not an entirely unpleasant person, but some of the things that come out of his mouth can be quite draining to listen to. He hits all my anger buttons and it takes a lot to push it all back down, you know?”

“Is that why you’re always so quiet whenever we leave the senate building?” He’d started smoothing his hand along her back without realizing it, a curious sort of look crossing his features as he tilted his head to look at her.

“Part of the reason, yeah.” Popping the closures on the chest armor, Iza stood up again to get it on, making a face when it seemed to compress itself to her form all on its own. Well, it wasn’t really _meant_ for a female body, but she’d hoped that they’d made some adjustments up top; no such luck. “This is stupid. Why can’t I just wear one of yours?”

“Because it’s too big,” it _was_ a little strange seeing her packed into the armor like that. He’d mistake her for one of his defective brothers if she had the helmet on—and maybe if she were forty meters away and he’d never seen her body before. “Have you tried adjusting the compression fit?”

“The what?”

Catcher pressed his lips together tightly but it was hard to tell whether he was trying not to laugh or sigh at her. Motioning for her to turn around, he fiddled with one of the buttons on the back panel of the plate and waited for a reaction.

“ _Kriffing hell_ ,” rubbing her chest through the armor, Iza looked relieved as she turned around again to face him. “I didn’t know it did that.”

“I thought you said they went over this with you at the Outfitter?”

“I got the rundown on what some of the stuff on the back does but no—the guy who gave me my armor didn’t say anything about being able to readjust the fit. Just to come to him if I need a replacement.”

“ _Stars_ , Iza,” shaking his head at her, Catcher smiled faintly and propped his chin in his hand. “What would you do without me?”

“You don’t want to hear the answer to that.” Wagging a finger at him in warning, the brunette fell silent as she pulled the rest of the armor on and shifted around uncomfortably when it was all in place. “S’heavy.”

“It’s an extra forty pounds, sweetheart.” His eyes followed her as she walked in a slow circle in front of him, head tilting slightly to the side. “You should take a walk around the base and get a proper feel for it.”

Shifting tired eyes to him, Iza looked like she wanted to object. He seemed to sense this as he got up from his seat and pressed a hand against her lower back to nudge her toward the door, grabbing up her helmet on the way.

“Come on, trooper,” he was having a little too much fun with this. “I’ll have you doing laps in no time.”

“The _hell_ you will,” Iza mumbled, marching her way out of the barracks while avoiding the looks she got from the others.

“Well hello,”

Looking up at the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice, Iza almost immediately went back inside. She hadn’t seen _anyone_ from the Temple since she’d left and had gone out of her way to avoid even Anakin—though she’d left him a very sincere _thank you_ letter with Padme once she’d learned that he’d stuck his neck out for her again. But Catcher was already blocking the doorway and the hand he had on her back practically cemented there; he wasn’t going to let her run off any time soon.

“Master Kenobi,” giving a light nod of her head, Iza wasn’t sure if it was the armor that weighed so heavy on her chest or if her anxiety was kicking in. “Hello,”

“I was just looking for you,” she couldn’t tell if his eyes were sad or tired or a combination of both. “Anakin asked me to bring you this.”

She didn’t need to look down to know he held her lightsaber in his hands. Shaking her head, she tapped the holsters at her hips and smiled tightly.

“No thank you. I have it covered.”

“He was quite insistent, my dear,”

“He usually is,” clenching her teeth, Iza tried not to huff before meeting the older man’s gaze. “I don’t want it.”

“You and I both know he’ll just keep trying.” Raising a brow at her, Obi-Wan shrugged. “Best to just take it before it ends up among your belongings anyway.”

“He was supposed to give it to Master Windu.”

“He did. It was returned to him.”

 _For the sake of the Force_.

“I’m not doing this,” turning to try and leave, she took the helmet Catcher held and tucked it under her arm as she started to walk off. “I’ve had enough of these antics, Master Kenobi. I’ve made my decision. I’m not coming back and I do _not_ want that lightsaber. The next person who tries to hand it off to me will have it shoved through their—”

“You’re still a Jedi, Lady Tacor.” Obi-Wan called out, stopping her in her tracks. “The Order may not approve your decision to walk the Center Path, but that does not make you any less a Jedi.”

“I am a _soldier_ , sir,” the chestplate was still too damn tight. She was going to need Catcher to help her adjust it later. “I serve the Grand Army.”

“It is well within your right as a public citizen to do so,” coming up alongside her, Obi-Wan cautiously walked around so he was face to face with the younger woman and offered the lightest of smiles. “But every good soldier needs a weapon.”

“I _have_ —”

“Little Bit,” Catcher’s sigh was about as loud as his footsteps as he came up behind her and set his hand on her shoulder. “Take it.”

“ _No_.”

“You can’t protect us with blasters alone, Iza,” watching her look up at him with quite possibly the most _incredulous_ look he’d ever seen, Catcher shot a pointed one back in return. “I’ve seen the way you handle blasters. You’re good, but nowhere near as good as you are with that thing. If you think I’m going to let you charge ahead of us without it, you’re dead wrong. Either take it, or learn to stay in the back with the rest of us.”

“I fucking hate you,” pointing a finger at her husband Iza turned to Obi-Wan and held her hand out, looking as though she was either going to scream or start crying. Once the hilt was in her hand, she gave a curt nod of thanks and rushed off without another word, leaving the two men behind.

“How is she settling in?” Obi-Wan asked once she was out of earshot.

“Surprisingly well,” rubbing the back of his neck, Catcher gave another sigh. “She’s going to be upset with me. I’m not supposed to take anyone’s side but hers.”

“And you have,” smiling some, the older man turned a hand up. “She’ll be upset for a little while, but only because the wounds are still raw. I don’t believe that leaving the Order was as easy for her as she’s making it seem. From what I’ve been told, the decision was rash.”

“I’m not sure about that,” the Clone wouldn’t look at Obi-Wan when he spoke again. “Iza’s been struggling with wanting to leave the Order for a long time.”

“You feel responsible?”

Running his fingers through his hair, Catcher slowly nodded and followed the small figure of Iza as she sat down on the edge of a concrete barrier and turned her lightsaber over in her hands.

“I do,”

“You shouldn’t.” Obi-Wan’s words had the Clone turning to stare at him. “Master Windu says she has always been conflicted. He’s also always known she would never stay long.”

“And nobody did anything?” As his brows knit together in confusion, Catcher frowned hard. “He didn’t try to convince her to stay? She said Anakin was the only one to try.”

“Yes, well…” Obi-Wan looked a little frustrated. “I would’ve liked to have been around for the conversation. I’m not terribly close with Lady Tacor, but perhaps I could’ve given her the sense of comfort she needed in order to stay a little longer. She’s a very talented Jedi, Commander. She would have done well if she’d stayed.”

“The Center Path—”

“It’s not spoken of in the Order. Most would like to think it doesn’t exist at all because it’s not the _right_ type of balance the high Council believes we need.” Rubbing at his beard, the older man waved a hand. “She’s more or less living the way a normal person would, perhaps with a little more attention paid to her thoughts and feelings. And… she’s shown that her first priority is not the Order, so while she is still a Jedi—she is not one of _us_.”

“I didn’t want this for her,” Catcher insisted, “Even before. I tried to make her stay.”

“I’m afraid there’s not a lot anyone could’ve done. Anakin mentioned some things that were a bit troubling. Not terribly _surprising_ , but troubling all the same.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

Shifting blue eyes to the man beside him, Obi-Wan seemed to hesitate before he spoke again.

“He seemed to think you were the cause of her drastic shift. I don’t know if I’d agree completely.” Sighing quietly, he shrugged. “I was not trying to be cruel when I told her she didn’t feel like herself. Something had definitely changed within her and I’ll be honest in saying that I didn’t believe her when she told me that she put the Order above everything else. I did believe you encouraged her to do so—but she’s very… _headstrong_.”

“Stubborn. You mean stubborn.” Catcher was trying not to smirk, his eyes drifting back to Iza who was now watching them intently.

“It’s something Master Windu has never been able to break her of. It’s also something he never _wanted_ to break her of. Her will to strive for the things that she wants is what got her to this point, after all.”

“Wouldn’t you consider that something that would lead her to—”

“If she used it the wrong way, yes.” Folding his arms over his chest, Obi-Wan squinted in thought. “Her motivation has never been _power_ based, though. Jealousy, perhaps. Certainly the need to maintain a relationship that goes beyond what is advised by the Code. But as far as I can tell, she has never wanted the things that would bring her over to the Dark Side.”

Catcher didn’t want to tell him about the things he’d witnessed her do; he’d seen Iza lash out at people who were _mostly_ innocent. She’d killed a man in a burst of rage without thinking twice. That _had_ to count against her. But that was none of Obi-Wan’s business. It was no one’s business but theirs. Iza had reasonable control over herself as long as her temper wasn’t sparked, and Catcher had a knack for calming her down before things got out of hand. Really, he’d hate to see what might’ve happened had he not been appointed as her Commander when all of this began.

“I must be getting back now,” Obi-Wan interrupted his thoughts. “Please let her know that there are people in the Temple who are on her side.”

“I’ll do that.”

Giving a nod, the Jedi bid a silent farewell and walked off, leaving Catcher alone to huff out a breath before wandering over to where Iza sat. Taking up the spot beside her, he leaned into her shoulder and eyed the lightsaber in her hand.

“You mad at me, Little Bit?”

“No,” she didn’t sound very convincing, but she also didn’t sound like she wanted to argue with him either.

“You don’t have to use that if you don’t want to.” Gesturing to the weapon he watched her look up at him and tried to offer a smile that she didn’t return. The space between his brows creased lightly in concern and Catcher reached up to run a fingertip over her cheek, surprised to find it damp. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t _want_ to go back, Catcher,” waving the lightsaber, she pointed it towards the Tower. “That’s what they’re trying to do. They’ll send someone else next. Ahsoka, maybe. I don’t know.”

“Sweetheart,” brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes, Catcher had to resist the urge he had to pull her onto his lap. They could get away with some small displays of affection here and there, but there were limits when certain people were walking around. “Nothing Obi-Wan said to me suggested that they were trying to bring you back to the Temple. He only expressed that he was sorry he wasn’t there when you left.”

“Because he didn’t get a chance to talk me out of leaving.” Her smile was pained and tight. “I could hear you, you know.” Tapping her ears with a sheepish sort of shrug, Iza laughed. “Bit of a bad habit to listen in when I know someone is talking about me.”

“Then you know good and well that he had no intention of trying to take you back.”

“Then why bring me _this?_ ” Again, she brandished the hilt, looking absolutely lost. “Never have I known them to return a lightsaber to a Jedi who has left the Order. Why give it back?”

“I can’t answer that, Little Bit,” shrugging apologetically, Catcher leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “But I’m sorry for making you take it.”

“No, you were right. It’s probably better to have it.” She didn’t want to admit that she’d been worried about not having it out on the battlefield. Iza had only ever used her lightsaber—the blaster training had been her only experience—and she wasn’t exactly confident in her ability to fight without it. “I didn’t mean to say what I said.”

“I know that,” laughing, he dropped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m used to you and your little outbursts, Little Bit.”

“I guess I should… probably walk around in this. Maybe try to get used to carrying the extra weight.”

“Would you like me to walk with you?”

“Please?”

Planting another kiss to her temple, Catcher got to his feet and held his hand out.

“You can practice waving that thing around while you’re at it. And afterward,” pointing to her helmet, he grinned, “We can decorate your bucket.”


	14. With You I'm In My Fuckin' Mind

“I’m going to kill him!” The sound of Iza’s helmet bouncing off the floor of the barracks drew the attention of a few stray Clones, as well as the members of the Star squad, and the heavy thud of her dropping down onto her bunk had each of the Stars looking between one another.

“What’s going on?” Popper asked cautiously. He knew Catcher would typically be the one to pipe up first, but the man had wandered off to shower. They really didn’t have much of a choice aside from letting her sit and stew in her anger.

“Fucking _Skywalker_ ,” Iza had started taking off her armor plates, setting them aside on the bed in neat little rows like she’d been told to.

“What did he do now?”

“He’s making us stay behind!” Throwing a hand out, she let out a frustrated noise and popped the chestplate off, setting it aside and rubbing her hands over her face. “He tapped the Wolffe Pack instead. Fucking… _ugh_.”

Looking between each other, the Stars didn’t seem to know how to react to this. On the one hand, it meant they had more free time around the base. On the other, it meant Iza was going to be even more irritable than she was already. She’d been pushing to get back out onto the battlefield for over a week now and every time she volunteered the squad for something, Anakin took _someone else_ instead. It was hard to tell whether the other General had some sort of agenda against her or if he genuinely needed the others over her squad.

“I’m so sick of this. I did not sign up to be a fucking bench warmer.” Giving a kick to the bunk across from hers, the brunette rolled onto her back and glared at the bottom of the bed above her. “He’s doing it on purpose. I just know he is.”

“Who’s doing what?” Catcher looked to his brothers before glancing at his wife, rubbing a towel over his still-damp hair as he wandered further into the barracks.

“Skywalker rejected another volunteer request,” Karver murmured, watching as Iza turned onto her side so she was facing away from them. “She’s _pissed_.”

“That’s the third one this week,” _great_. This was what he wanted to deal with right now. “Did he say why?”

“ _No_.” Iza grumbled. “Rex just told me we were to stay put on _General’s orders_.”

 _Sweet Maker_. Giving his brothers a look and a wave of his hand to indicate he needed them to clear out, Catcher waited for them to leave before heading over to Iza’s bunk and sitting down on the edge.

“Little Bit,” setting a hand on her side, he gave a light squeeze and watched her turn to look at him. “You know you can petition to—”

“Everyone else is careless. Aside from Master Plo, I wouldn’t trust us in anyone else’s hands.” Shaking her head, Iza turned away again and huffed. “I’ve already gone through this with Rex and he thinks I’m being ridiculous too, so go ahead and say it. I don’t care. But I’m not putting our lives in the hands of a Jedi who won’t—”

“Have you tried Kenobi?”

“He’s out with Skywalker. He’s always out with Skywalker.”

“Sweetheart—”

“If you’re just going to try to comfort me, you can save it Catch. I don’t need it. I just… want to be angry right now, please.”

“Okay,” nodding, he was a little thrown off but not upset. He just wasn’t used to Iza wanting to stew in her emotions most of the time.

“Lay down with me?”

“Are you gonna behave?” He smiled when she looked at him, raising a very pointed eyebrow at the questioning expression on her face. “Don’t give me that look. You know what the rules are in here.”

“ _Yes_ , I will behave,” she looked a little put out, but willing to comply. Shifting over on the small bed to make room, she smiled faintly as Catcher climbed in beside her and made a face at how cramped it was. “It’s almost as bad as sharing a bunk on the cruiser, huh?”

“I don’t know why Rex worries about us in here,” grabbing one of the bunk supports so he could shift around easier, Catcher managed to scoop Iza up so she laid half across his chest with their legs intertwined. “We couldn’t do anything fun in these damn beds if we tried.”

“I’m sure we could.” She grinned when he tapped the end of her nose in warning. “I didn’t say we were gonna _try_ , Catcher. I just suggested it was _possible_.”

“And I told you to behave,” he looked amused as he watched her fake a pout, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair with a quiet sigh. “We can go to our spot tonight. That’s one plus of being grounded.”

“You’ve got a point.” Shrugging, the brunette propped her chin on his chest and hummed, falling silent for a few minutes. Frowning, she picked her head up and eyed him. “Are you even comfortable right now?”

“Mostly. Why?”

“You’ve got none of your armor on.” Laughing, Iza reached back and tapped her knuckles against the plastoid covering her thigh. “I know from experience that this is _not_ comfortable to cuddle with.”

“Little Bit,” laughing, Catcher tucked an arm behind his head and pulled her closer with the other. “I’ve had to _sleep_ in that shit. Trust me—this is nothing.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” pressing her face to his chest, Iza gave a tiny swat to the spot beside her head and huffed.

“What? What did I do?”

“You know how you get fussy at me for standing certain ways? Yeah—don’t do this thing with your arm.” Blindly reaching up to try and get him to untuck it, she was met with a loud laugh before he took hold of her fingers and brought them to his lips.

“Really, sweetheart?” He teased, raising an eyebrow when she peeked at him. “That’s what gets you?”

“When you’re wearing just this stupid thing?” Plucking the front of the undersuit, she nodded. “Yeah. It is. You know you can see everything through this, right? You flex your ass and I can see it from across the room.”

“ _Why_ do you think the boys have been so crabby about you walking around in here without your plates on?”

“ _The boys_ —or just you?”

He shot her a look and looked away with a low grumble.

“ _Catcher_ ,” pouting lightly, Iza leaned up and kissed his chin. “Would you feel better if I wore one of the robes over it?”

“I’m not going to make you—”

“Love,” pushing herself up on an arm, the brunette gently turned his head so he’d look at her and raised an eyebrow. “Would it help?”

“Yes.”

“ _Okay_.” Leaning in to kiss his forehead she smiled and settled back down. “Then I’ll do that. I don’t have a problem with it. I feel… _exposed_ a lot of the time, anyway.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you how you’re dealing with living in a room with a group of men and no privacy.” Winding his arm around her shoulders, Catcher nuzzled his cheek into her hair and smirked to himself. “Big change from _that place_ , I imagine.”

“This is a lot easier than you might think.” Gesturing around the barracks, Iza let out a quiet laugh. “I _am_ used to having a little more privacy than this, but it’s a small sacrifice to pay. Your brothers are pretty respectful of my space and I understand that they’re not used to having a woman in here, so they’re _gonna_ look. I probably shouldn’t even _be_ in here, but this is Rex’s doing—not mine.”

“You asked for your own pod, didn’t you?”

“I did.” She nodded and made a face. “He told me that nobody gets special treatment in the Army, and I said that was fine. I was just looking out for the comfort of the rest of the men in these barracks. Not mine. I don’t think he believed me.”

“I think Rex has a lot on his plate right now.” Running a hand along her arm, Catcher kissed the top of her head. “He’s had to fit a new squad into his battalion that _technically_ isn’t even his, and he’s also got a Jedi General who isn’t a Jedi that he has to order around _and_ take orders from. He’s a bit scrambled, sweetheart.”

“That’s all _fair_ , Catch. I’m doing my best not to bother him. I just… don’t know who else to go to around here. He’s always been the one to help out.”

“I know,”

“Do you think I should petition to go out with the 187th?”

Picking his head up, Catcher stared at her hard. When Iza didn’t immediately look at him, he tilted his head to try and read the look on her face. After a moment or two, he shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re still _very_ upset with Master Windu. I don’t think you trust him enough right now to go out with the 187th.”

“I trust Ponds.” Glancing at him, she shrugged. “I’ve always trusted Ponds.”

“ _Iza_ ,” grabbing for the support bar again to pull himself upright, Catcher brought her with him and gently turned her face towards his. “I understand you’re feeling antsy. I understand you want to go out there and do something. But you need to remember that this isn’t a game we’re playing. This is a war. _We_ are the weapons, sweetheart. They’ll bring us when they need us.”

“I’m still a General, Catch. I should be having _some_ sort of say in the assignments. I don’t understand why I’ve been blocked out like this.” Looking frustrated, Iza started to absently reach for a lock of her hair when Catcher gently took hold of her hand and forced it back into her lap. She didn’t fight him; she was too busy trying to find an answer to the questions that had been running through her head for days now. “I’m about to just start taking assignments without asking. Next time someone throws something out, we’re going. The Stars are just gonna _go_.”

“Little Bit,” dropping his chin against her shoulder, Catcher shook his head. “Take it as a blessing. Someone is looking out for—”

“I didn’t sign up to be a fucking _bench warmer!_ ” Pulling against his hold, Iza turned away from him. “Anakin can take his safety net and shove it. This isn’t what I want.”

“What about what I want?” Hauling her back against his chest, the Clone wrapped his arms around her tight enough to keep her from wriggling away again. “Why is this always about _you_ , Little Bit? Maybe I don’t want to see you out there anymore.”

“You didn’t want me out there in the first place, Catcher!” Grinding her teeth, she rolled her eyes. “You knew exactly how _I_ felt. I _hated_ letting you go by yourself. I _hated_ not knowing if you’d come back. You know what I did to get my rank, Catch. You know _why_. But I’m _sorry_ if I got a taste of what you get to do and I _liked_ it.”

“ _That_ is exactly why I don’t want you out there, Little Bit,” he pressed his face against the side of her neck and growled quietly on the next exhale of breath. “This has changed you so much. I know you’re still the same sweet girl deep down, but you _scare_ me sometimes. I don’t like how battle hungry you’ve become.”

“I’m not battle hungry,” she muttered, sounding offended. “I’m still here to protect you. I just… enjoy the rush.”

“That’s what scares me. I’m afraid you’re going to lose yourself for the sake of the next adrenaline rush, Iza.”

“I’m fine,” leaning her head against his, Iza snorted. “You know I don’t touch organics with the abilities I use out there. Not after—”

A hand came up to cover her mouth and Catcher’s lips were suddenly pressed to her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“ _Quiet_.” _Damn_ —didn’t take him long to get pissed off, did it? “We agreed to never bring that up.”

Nodding, Iza let out a huff when he dropped his hand, turning to shoot him a look.

“You need to _stop_ that.” Biting the back of her tongue, she shifted uncomfortably on the bed and twisted under his hold to try and fold her arms over her chest. “I don’t know how many times I’ve got to tell you what that shit does to me.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” He kept his lips close to her ear, his tone low and still quite harsh. “It’s _you_ who needs to stop behaving this way. _Fuck’s sake_ , Iza. If I didn’t love you the way I do—”

“Would you hurt me, Catcher?” Dropping her head back on his shoulder to look at him, she raised an eyebrow and gave him such an innocent look that it made his chest tighten. _Maker_ , she didn’t need to do that. “Would you?”

“I wonder sometimes,” tracing his finger over the scar on her cheek, he sighed heavily. “You put such fury in my heart, Little Bit.”

“I wouldn’t stop you. You know that, right?”

He made a sound like he’d been punched in the gut when she said that. All of the air rushed out of him at once and made him feel ridiculously weak as he stared at her. Looking incredibly concerned and guilty all at once, he wrapped his arms around her as tight as he could and just held her to his chest, shaking his head slowly. His gut felt _cold_ and his chest tightened even more as her words kept repeating over in his head.

“Don’t ever say that to me again.” A palm came up to cradle the side of her head and he practically mashed his lips against her temple, his breathing coming in labored, panicked rasps. “Iza, _never say that to me again_.”

“But it’s true,”

“ _Shut up, Little Bit_ ,” he squeezed his arms around her even tighter, the hand resting against her face starting to curl in her hair. “I know I have a foul temper, but I would _never_ … and if I ever did… _Iza_ , I would want you to defend yourself.”

“No.” She sucked in a sharp breath when his hold got tighter still, but made no effort to try and wriggle free.

“ _Iza_ ,” he turned her in his arms so she could face him fully, surprised that she’d gone about as limp as a ragdoll. “ _Stop_.”

“If I defended myself, I would kill you.” She couldn’t even look at him when she said it. “Your hands are harmless, Catcher. You’ve seen what mine can do. I stand to lose more than you do if I fight back.”

“Don’t give me that shit!” He was careful when he lifted her chin, using just a few crooked fingers to do it. “We’ve talked about this. If I ever—”

“I tell you when you’re too rough with me, Catch. And you listen.” Shrugging, the brunette let out a soft laugh and turned her hands up. “But if you were to ever… I couldn’t stop you. Because I only know one way of stopping you. And I won’t do it.”

“You _would_.”

“ **No**.”

“ _Iza Tacor_ ,” running a hand down his face, Catcher wasn’t sure if he was about to blow his lid or start crying out of frustration. “You can’t fight with me about this.”

“Sounds like I am.” That stupid little smirk of hers was only making things worse. “And it sounds like I’m going to win, too.”

The growling yell Catcher let out echoed off the walls of the barracks as he propelled himself forward and grabbed hold of her shoulders, shoving her down against the bed and pinning her there. His thumbs skimmed along the sides of her throat, shaking lightly as he stared down at her and put his weight down on her body— _waiting_. But Iza just stared back at him, unmoving. The air between them was thick and tense and it made his anger burn even hotter to see the defiance in those pretty green eyes of hers. Pushing more of his weight into her, he heard her grunt lightly and moved his hands up further along her neck, hating that he wanted to know what it would feel like to close his fingers around the soft, delicate column and _squeeze_.

“Fight back,” he hissed, bringing his eyes back up to hers.

Iza shook her head.

“I won’t.”

“ _Iza!_ ” He couldn’t help giving her a little shake, his face going red as tears pricked the back of his eyes. “Dammit, Little Bit!”

Reaching up, Iza cupped his face in her hands and lightly stroked her fingers along his jaw before bringing him down to kiss him so fucking sweetly that it broke him. She kept her forehead pressed to his as he grit his teeth against the wave of emotion that crashed down over him and left him even weaker than before, using her thumbs to sweep away shameful tears as they started streaking down his face. She kissed away his whispered apologies and slipped her arms around his neck when Catcher all but collapsed on top of her, holding him to her while running comforting fingers through his hair.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” his voice was a quiet rasp against her neck as he slipped his arms beneath her to hold her just as tight. “ _Fuck_ , sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t hurt me, Catcher,” even as she said it, Iza wasn’t _entirely_ sure that was true, but if the way he was falling apart was anything to go by—she could safely bet that he wouldn’t ever truly take his temper out on her. “Your heart won’t let you.”

“Please don’t do that again,” he begged, practically clinging to her. “Iza, _please_.”

“I won’t, love,” turning to kiss the side of his head she rubbed her fingers against his scalp and cuddled him even closer. “I promise.”

For a while, the two of them just lay there on the bed clutching onto one another. Every so often, Catcher or Iza would brush their lips across whatever bit of bare skin they could reach and murmur soft words of apology or comfort before falling silent again. Catcher seemed to quietly understand that his wife held no fear of him—and that, in turn, scared the shit out of him. He didn’t _want_ her to be afraid of him, of course, but there was nothing wrong with a healthy dose of caution when one knew their partner had a temper issue. But she’d looked him dead in the eye while he contemplated wrapping his fingers around her soft little neck and she’d done _nothing_ to stop him. It was true that Iza could probably hurt him far worse than he could ever hurt her, but it straight up bothered him that she wouldn’t defend herself against him if he lost his shit. He’d hesitated, sure—but would he ever hesitate like that again?

“Stop,” her breath was warm against his cheek when she whispered to him, her green eyes stern as they met his brown ones. “I feel that. Stop worrying.”

“I can’t help it,” easing back enough to look at her, Catcher brushed his fingers down the side of her face and frowned. “That was too close, Little Bit.”

“Shush,” leaning up to steal a kiss, Iza shook her head. “It’s over. I promised I wouldn’t prod like that again.”

“But what if—”

“Catcher,” pressing two fingers to his lips, she shot him a look. “If I have to break the rules and do something filthy to distract you, _I will_. But I want you to drop this. Everything is okay, love. _It’s okay_.”

“I need to go outside,” tucking his head against the side of her neck, he sagged into her a little. “I need air.”

“Why don’t we pack a bag and go to our spot?” Running her fingers along the side of his face, Iza smiled faintly and pressed kisses over the bridge of his nose. “The Stars can comm us if we’re needed.”

“Yeah,” nodding slowly, it took a minute before Catcher was able to sit up and he hissed when he banged his head on the top bunk above him. “ _Motherfu_ —”

“Catch,” sitting up, Iza reached to run her fingers through his hair and rub lightly at the spot where he’d hit his head, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Close your eyes and breathe for a minute. You’re all over the place.”

Pressing his forehead into hers like he was trying desperately to use her as something to ground himself with, Catcher kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on her breathing the way he’d always taught her to do with him. It felt funny to be on the opposite end of this for once; he never imagined he’d need her guidance to come down from feeling so damn anxious before. He also never imagined that he’d get so close to hurting her that he’d scare himself like that before, either.

“I have you, Catch,” Iza whispered quietly, shifting closer so she could settle her arms around his shoulders and continue playing with his hair. “You’re safe. I have you.”

He didn’t know why hearing it made the tension start to ease in his chest, but he was grateful for it. Slipping his arms around her to pull her closer so he had more to hold onto, Catcher was only vaguely aware of the way she’d begun to press featherlight kisses to his face. Soon enough, he was relaxing into her and dropping his head to nestle it in the crook of her neck, groaning almost miserably even when she nuzzled his ear affectionately and kissed it.

“I love you,” he needed to hear it; he honestly needed to hear her say it in that moment. “I love you so much, Catcher.”

Squeezing her around the middle, he nodded and brushed his lips against her neck, unable to bring himself to break away just yet.

“I love you too, Little Bit.”

~*~*~*~

“ _Anakin_ ,”

Another week had gone by and Iza had been denied yet another chance to help out on a mission with her Stars. It had been such a simple one, too. Just a quick supply drop; nothing she hadn’t done a dozen times before. She was no longer just impatient, she was _pissed_. So pissed that she’d actually come out of hiding away from the Jedi who visited the base in order to confront Anakin in particular.

“Hey—I’ve been wondering where you’ve—”

“You’ve got _balls_ ,” stepping up as close as she could get without touching him directly, Iza leaned in towards him and stretched herself to her height’s limit. “I know you pulled strings with Chancellor Palpatine to get me in here. I _know_ you took over my men so they’d be looked after. And I _know_ you made Kenobi give my lightsaber back.”

“Yes, and?” Anakin looked unsure as he leaned back a bit. It was never a good thing when Iza decided to invade his personal space, especially since she hated it so much when he invaded _hers_.

“You haven’t let us go on a single fucking assignment since then.” Squinting as she worked her jaw, the brunette propped her hands on her hips and exhaled slowly through her nose. “What gives?”

“I thought you wanted to join the Army to keep Catcher safe. I’m helping you do that.”

“I _wanted_ to fight, Anakin.”

“You’re a Jedi. Jedi don’t—”

“Contrary to whatever _Master Kenobi_ told you, I’m not a fucking Jedi. I’m a Force user. But I’m not _peaceful_ and I’m not _mindful_. And I want my men to be able to do their damn duty, Skywalker. This isn’t fair to _them_.” She stepped even closer, the toes of her boots nearly overlapping his. “It’s not fair to _me_.”

“Is this why you’ve petitioned every battalion in the place?” _Man_ , he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her like this. Sure—she’d been pissed off before, but it wasn’t just anger that was radiating off of her. It felt a little more like _passion_.

“I thought someone might take us. But I get the funny feeling you stuck your fingers in and decided to _meddle_.”

“That’s not my doing.” Shaking his head, Anakin put his hands up. “You might want to talk to Master Windu about that.”

“Well what about _you?_ We’re _your_ fucking men, Skywalker!” Her arms came up and for a minute, he thought she might push him but she simply folded them firmly over her chest. “I’m tired of sitting out. I’m tired of my men sitting out. I want in on the next assignment—or _whatever_ assignment you can spare. We’re good at what we do and you know it.”

Studying her for a moment, he tilted his head and frowned. He supposed he could understand her frustration, but at the same time, he wasn’t entirely sure he liked how demanding she was being. Not because of rank or anything dumb like that, but because he couldn’t put his finger on the things he was feeling from her. Yes, there was passion—definitely some serious irritation going on, too—but there was something deeper underneath it all and he was having a hard time identifying it.

“ _Well?_ ”

Impatience. Bitterness. Anger. The light pressure of something _hot_ against his chest. Her emotions were getting the better of her and she’d done absolutely nothing to stop it. Was this what it was like when someone walked out of the Order? Did they lose touch with themselves and the things they’d been taught?

“ ** _Anakin_** _!_ ”

“Okay,” his hands went up a little higher this time to keep her from leaning in any further. He really didn’t like the look in her eye, like she wasn’t afraid to deck him again because she knew she could probably get away with it here. “I’ve got something you can take.”

“When and where?”

“It’s nothing extreme,” rubbing the back of his neck he finally took a few steps back from her and was a little surprised when she followed. Sheesh, she was not going to let him leave, was she? “It’s just a relief mission, but Master Plo can’t spare the Pack. They’re already off somewhere else.”

“That’s not—”

“Ymac. You’d leave in a few hours. We need to load up your ship.”

“Ymac?” Where the hell was _that?_ “I don’t—”

“It’s in the outer rim. The Separatists barreled through there about a week ago and left it a mess. It’s kind of a backwater place and the main city is kind of… _iffy_.” Waving a hand, he shrugged. “You can take more men if you think you’ll need them. Five really isn’t enough for this kind of thing.”

“I have more than five, you know. The Stars are just—”

“Your favorites?” Smirking lightly, Anakin shot a knowing look and got a scowl in return. “Okay—sorry. Just ready your men and meet me at Hangar Four in about three hours.”

“What are the conditions like? Are we expecting battle droids or organics or what?”

“It’s a relief mission, Iza. You’re delivering goods and providing assistance. As far as we know, the Separatists have already moved on.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about the disappointment in her eyes. “I’m not saying _go unarmed_. I’m just saying that this isn’t going to be a big battle.”

“Right.” Sucking at her bottom lip for a moment, Iza clicked her tongue and gave a light salute. “See you in a few hours.”

“Hey,” he wouldn’t make a grab for her—he’d learned his lesson about that—but Anakin _would_ step in front of her to keep her from walking off so quickly. “Are you doing okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be doing okay, Anakin?”

“You seem… _off._ ”

Iza let out a snort and rolled her eyes, wagging a finger at him.

“Don’t start that shit again, Skywalker.”

“I’m serious, Iza,” it was his turn to fold his arms over his chest and get close enough to almost bump chests with her. “You feel out of balance. Something isn’t right.”

“Your face is gonna be out of balance if you don’t get the hell out of my way.” Moving to side step him, Iza grit her teeth when Anakin followed, dropping her arms to her sides and balling her hands into fists. “I’m serious, Anakin—don’t toy with me.”

“Since when are you this quick to anger?” It was a sincere question. He’d known her to have something of a temper—especially when it came to him—but she never got sparked this easy. He usually had to do more prodding than this.

“I’m not afraid to attack a Jedi.” She looked him dead in the eye when she said it, too. “You wanna lock me up for it— _have fun_. But it’s better for the both of us if you just get the fuck out of my way so I can go do my job.”

He moved to the side to let her pass, watching her with cautious eyes as she stalked past him. There was something in the air—a kind of strange, _burning_ smell—that followed her and he wasn’t sure what it was. There’d been a heavy sensation that had washed over him as well when she’d snapped at him, and he’d fully believed that she would have no problem jumping him in front of all of the Clones wandering around the place. Yeah, something was definitely wrong with that girl. He wished he had enough time to figure out what it was, but he’d sworn to Master Obi-Wan that he wouldn’t get involved in her affairs anymore. He could check on her and make sure she was well taken care of, but he wasn’t _supposed_ to meddle. Oh well. Hopefully it wasn’t anything he needed to worry about. He didn’t really need more on his plate.

Iza, on the other hand, was perfectly fine with having plenty to do. This mission wasn’t exactly what she’d been hoping for, but it was _something_ and she was going to take it. She really needed to shake off this rage first, though. Anakin had a real bad habit of igniting that forbidden fire in her without even trying and _boy_ did it take some effort to put it out. She thought about looking for Catcher and dragging him into one of the locked barracks, but the last time they’d done that they’d been caught and reprimanded quite severely. She honestly hadn’t known Rex could yell that loud. Going off the base for a quickie wasn’t exactly ideal either, since they needed to ready up and get the ship squared away. Yeah—it was just going to have to wait and she was just going to have to rely on old methods to get rid of this mood.

Her footsteps were heavier than she meant them to be as she headed into the barracks and whistled through her teeth to get the attention of the Stars, who were all crowded around playing cards.

“We’ve got a job, boys,” grinning wide as she strolled past to get into the storage space beneath her bunk, Iza grunted when Catcher took hold of her by the elbow and shot him an impatient look. “What?”

“What kind of job?”

“It’s just a relief mission. Some place called Ymac?” Shrugging, she brushed him off and continued over to her bunk, squatting to get into it. “Skywalker said the place got pummeled by Separatists. We’re not going for action, unfortunately.”

“Why us?” Unk asked, barely glancing up from his cards.

“Because I’m sick of sitting around the barracks, that’s why.” Taking her lightsaber out from where she’d stashed it, Iza eyed it and sighed before clipping it to her belt. Might as well take it _just in case_. “Don’t leave your toys behind. I don’t know anything about this place.”

“Didn’t General Skywalker tell you what to expect?” Squinting, Catcher came over to lean against the bunk, eyeing her warily.

“He just said we’d be bringing in supplies and providing whatever assistance we can while we’re there.” Turning her hand up, Iza looked up at him. “Listen, if you don’t want to go, then I’ll do it by myself. I’m really tired of just sitting around, Catch.”

“You can’t go by yourself, General,” Ze rolled his eyes and tossed his cards down onto the floor. “You know we’ll go with you. Do you want me to round up the others?”

“Please,” nodding, she pointed towards the door. “And see what you can do about getting Slade as our pilot. If he isn’t busy with something else, I want him.”

“Yes sir,” getting to his feet, Ze shot the others a quick smirk and headed out.

“Karver, Popper—you two are in charge of making sure we’ve got arms packed. Unk, supervise the load up. I don’t want a repeat of _last time_.”

“Roger that, sir.”

Watching the other three abandon the game and leave, Catcher clicked his tongue and looked back at his wife.

“And what’s _my_ special job?”

“I need you to get me maps and all the information we need for where we’re going. Find out if we’ll need a translator droid, special helmet filters— _everything_.”

Raising a brow, his eyes followed her as she straightened and went to grab her helmet and bracers.

“Iza,” reaching out, he took hold of her utility belt to pull her close, gently lifting her chin and taking note of the impatient look she gave him.

“I don’t have time for this, Catch. We only have a few hours.”

“Sweetheart,” he thumbed her chin and frowned. “What did he say to you?”

“I don’t know what—”

“If you lie to me, I will drop out and leave you to deal with those four by yourself. I won’t sneak into the cargo hold with you and I certainly won’t be doing _that thing_ you love so much.”

Scowling, Iza inhaled sharply and pushed him off, sitting down on the bed to attach her bracers to her undersuit.

“He kept us off the field because he thought I was only here to protect you.” Turning a hand up, she rolled her eyes again. “Not that I’m _not_ here for that purpose, but I’m also here for the _obvious_ reason too. You don’t sign up for the Army to sit around in the fucking barracks.”

“Is that all? Because you…” laughing quietly, Catcher eyed her up and down a few times and shook his head. “You’re _seething_ , Little Bit.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can’t explain it. But I can feel something deep in my gut that tells me you want to rip someone’s head from their shoulders.” He paused, squinting again. “Or quite possibly do really terrible things that would make it hard for me to walk later.”

“You’re on the money with that second one, only I’d rather be the one who couldn’t walk.”

“Do we have time for that?”

Running a hand through her hair, Iza shook her head.

“Not really. We have a few hours, but—”

“Come on,” keeping hold of her belt, Catcher started tugging her towards the front of the barracks to lead her outside. “We’ll hit the showers, take care of this problem, and then I’ll get the intel you need. Deal?”

“Are you _sure?_ ” Not that she was objecting; it was a lot better than _meditating_ to get rid of the anger.

“Sweetheart,” looking at her over his shoulder, Catcher snorted. “I am not getting on a ship with you while you’re cooking like a grenade. We’ll get you a bacta patch for your hips when we’re done and tell Kix it’s for… you know… monthly issues.”

“He just gave me my contraceptive shot, Catch,” trying not to laugh as she was dragged into the locker where the showers were, she started disengaging the plates from her suit and waved a hand. “He doesn’t need to know that it stops the whole problem. I’m sure they only told him how to administer it, anyway.”

“Good,” stuffing their combined armor into his personal storage locker, he gestured towards one of the stalls. “Do me a favor and _try_ to stay quiet this time.”

“If you do it the way you’ve threatened to, _quiet_ is not going to be easy.”

“I said _try_ , sweetheart.” Giving her a kiss, he tugged at her undersuit and gave a quick swat to her backside. “Get it off and get in there. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Yes sir, Commander Catcher _sir_.”

~*~*~*~

“You’re certain this is what you were experiencing?” Obi-Wan looked skeptical. He’d asked Anakin _not_ to bother Iza or meddle in her business while on the base, but he had to admit that the things he was hearing were a _little_ troubling.

“Master, you know I would not come to you if I didn’t think the situation was delicate.” He probably should have just waited until Iza was off Coruscant. _Now_ he looked like a damn idiot standing here watching her and her men load crates and things into their ship while the only thing he felt radiating off of her was an embarrassing amount of bliss. “She was in my face. _Aggressive_. I don’t know how to explain it but it was like there was… _fire?_ ”

“Fire?”

“Smoke. I don’t know. The air was heavy around her, and warm. And there was smoke. I could swear there was smoke.”

Well, _shit_. That was definitely not a good sign, now was it? Obi-Wan was almost hesitant to let her go out with those men, even if she was the picture of peace at the moment. If her tempers were flaring that easily, she was definitely _not_ following the path she’d believed she was when she left the Order.

“What do you think we ought to do, Anakin?” He asked, smiling tightly when he noticed Iza looking over at them warily.

“We should go with them. Just to make sure she doesn’t—”

“That’s not going to be a well-received idea, you realize?”

“She’s one of _my fucking men_ , as she so eloquently put it earlier.” Anakin folded his arms over his chest and snorted lightly. “I think that gives me the authority to say whether or not I get to jump on board for a mission.”

Obi-Wan gave him a look and blew out a breath.

“You’re risking quite a lot, angering her that way.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Oh, I’m not the one who gets to tell her. _You are_.”

“ _Anakin_ , I don’t think that’s wise. She’s been wary enough of me as it is.”

“Well, then don’t tell her directly. Go through one of the Clones.”

Obi-Wan looked as though he would rather eat his lightsaber.

“Perhaps _you_ should do it. These are _your_ men, after all. I’m only here to supervise.” Folding his arms over his chest, the older man side-eyed Anakin and watched him huff out a breath. It seemed that neither of them wanted to tempt fate by poking the beast.

“General Skywalker,” Rex’s voice had them both jumping out of their skins, but only Anakin turned to acknowledge the Captain.

“ _Rex!_ ” Reaching out, the taller man dropped a hand on his shoulder and grinned wide. “I was looking for you. I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Oh _no_ ,” it was never a good thing when the General had that look in his eye while asking for a _favor_. But the Clone Captain wasn’t entirely positive he’d be allowed to object. Grimacing, he tried to straighten his back and look as professional and willing as possible, all while wishing he’d never approached the man. “What can I help you with, sir?”

“Go let General Tacor know that we’ll be coming with the Stars. As support.” He did _not_ like Anakin’s smile one bit.

“Support, sir? Isn’t she just bringing supplies to Ymac?”

“ _Ymac?_ ” Obi-Wan turned and stared at Anakin. “You’re sending her out to Ymac?”

“Hey— _she’s_ the one who demanded a mission from me. I don’t know what I was supposed to do.”

“There are plenty of other places that need help, Anakin. We’re not even entirely sure that the place will be receptive of our assistance.” Rubbing at his mustache, Obi-Wan tried not to look worried. “Wasn’t this job for Master Plo?”

“The Wolffe Pack got called away for something else.” Anakin shrugged. “At least now we have a viable reason to go, right?”

“ _I suppose_.”

“Good. Rex?” Turning back to the Captain, Anakin smiled and watched the man cringe slightly.

“Yes sir, I’ll let her know.” Looking very much like he wanted to throw himself into a pit of live grenades, Rex took a deep breath and made his way across the base to where Iza was helping to load things into the ship.

“I’m not going to stop her if she tries to kill you, I hope you know.” Obi-Wan muttered, watching as the brunette looked from Rex, to Anakin, then back to the Clone.

“I had a bad feeling you’d say that.” Anakin _definitely_ didn’t like the look in the woman’s eyes when she straightened and stared out over at him while shaking her head. He was, however, surprised when she gave Rex a solid pat to his shoulder and turned to storm her way into the ship, presumably to let the rest of the crew know. “ _Well_ ,”

“That’s not at all how I expected that to go,” the older Jedi was astounded, especially considering the way the young woman had appeared so damn murderous when looking at Anakin. “I wonder if Rex somehow softened the blow?”

“It’s Rex,” letting out a snort, Anakin couldn’t help smirking. “He’s pretty good at delivering bad news to people.”

As if on cue, the blond Clone strolled back up looking hesitant.

“What’s up?” Anakin asked.

“Uh—she said _you can go fuck yourself_ , sir.” Clearing his throat, Rex refused to look at Anakin. “This is _her_ mission and she’s capable of completing it without the help of, er,”

“Yes?” Obi-Wan was _extremely_ amused.

“ _That smug little Jedi di’kut_.” Rex kept his eyes on something over to his far left and pressed his lips together tight.

“I didn’t know she spoke Mandalorian.” _Yes_ , Obi-Wan was enjoying this more than he should’ve. “Do you need a translation, Anakin?”

“I know what it means,” Anakin looked more disgruntled than anything. This wasn’t going to stop him from going; they just wouldn’t follow _closely_. “All right. Ready up about twelve men—yourself included.”

“Sir?” Rex looked concerned when he shifted his eyes back to the General.

“Do you think I’m going to let her order me around?” Smiling, the Jedi waved a dismissive hand. “This wasn’t debatable in the first place. We’re going.”

Looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan as if hoping the other man could provide _some_ kind of assistance, Rex was met with a light shrug and suddenly wished he’d just stayed in the damn barracks. Nodding firmly, he gave a light salute.

“Yes sir,”

“Good man,” Anakin gave Rex a pat and watched him walk off, knowing full well that the man was not at all happy to be dragged into this. He’d buy him a drink later to make up for it. Turning to Obi-Wan, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming with, you know.”

“Oh, of course.” Obi-Wan scoffed. “Because I don’t have anything better to do than help you piss off that girl.”

“Master, you know it’s more complicated than that.”

“Yes, I do,” the older Jedi pursed his lips in annoyance. “Which is exactly why I don’t think this is a good idea, Anakin. You’re not only putting yourself at risk, but those men as well. If she’s truly reaching a tipping point, they’ll become expendable.”

“I won’t let it get that far.”

“You’d better hope not.” Shooting the man a look, Obi-Wan shook his head and sighed. “Best get ready. We don’t have a lot of time before we leave.”


	15. Without You, I'm Out It

“Stop grinding your teeth.” Catcher’s hand was gentle as it gave Iza’s jaw a light squeeze. “You’ll give yourself a headache.”

“You want me to pull my hair? Coz I’d rather pull my hair.” Heaving an irritated breath, the brunette shut her eyes and pressed her fingers against the sides of her head. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Sweetheart,” he was losing patience with her. Catcher understood that Iza hated the idea of General Skywalker _assisting_ them on this mission, but the man had every right to. They didn’t know a damn thing about this place they were going to and all of the intel he’d gathered suggested that the Ymac people weren’t very welcoming to outsiders. The request for aid had come from the senate—not the Ymacs themselves. They had no idea what they were walking into and whether or not Skywalker’s assumption that there would be no need for weaponry was even true. But his wife was just so damn stubborn that she refused the idea of needing extra help at all. “ _Please_ ,”

“If I wanted to be treated like this, I would’ve stayed at the Temple.” Clenching her teeth together, Iza had to fight to keep from grinding them again. “This is _Sithspit_ , Catcher. Straight fucking _Sithspit_.”

“You need to calm down.”

“ _He_ needs to stop sticking his damn nose in everything I do!”

“Why do you care so much, Iza?!” Throwing his hands up, Catcher propped them on his hips and stared down at her, narrowing his eyes. “Why do you care so much about what Skywalker does? Just fucking _ignore_ him, Little Bit. You were so good at doing that before.”

“Why does _he_ care about everything _I_ do? **That’s** the real question, Catch. Why’s he so fucking caught up in his **feelings** that he has to keep tabs when he knows I can handle this on my own?”

Reaching out to put a restraining hand on her chest and keep her from pacing, Catcher narrowed his eyes.

“ _Feelings?_ ” He didn’t like the sound of that; _at all_. “I thought you said he had someone?”

“He does.” Lowering her voice so the others wouldn’t hear—not that they were trying to listen in _anyway_ —she leaned back against the wall and folded her arms. “But he said it himself. _Things change when you see someone get their face bashed in by a Commando droid_.”

“Surely you don’t mean—”

“He claims it’s purely platonic. He hasn’t…” she hesitated, knowing damn well it wasn’t a good idea to get him worked up while on the ship. “…he hasn’t done anything to make me think otherwise. But all of _this_. This immense _babying_. I don’t know what the hell to think sometimes.” Letting out a snort, she rolled her eyes and rubbed at her cheek distractedly. “I sure would love to know what Padme would say about this.”

“ _Padme?_ ”

**Shit.**

“Hush.” Covering his mouth with a hand, she pointed a finger at him and leveled her gaze with his. “You didn’t hear that. I never said that name.”

Casting a look towards the nearby Clones, Catcher took his wife by the wrist and dragged her down towards the bunks, locking them inside the room before giving her a hard look.

“He’s screwing a kriffing _senator?_ ”

“Catcher—”

“How long have you known?”

“A while, okay? It isn’t something I felt was necessary to share. As much as he pisses me off, he’s kept up his half of the bargain and not said anything to anyone about _us_.” Shrugging, Iza glanced towards the door and sighed. “Not that it matters much anymore. But he’s still one of _them_. He could still get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out.”

“But you hate him, right?” Catcher really was trying not to smile. “You hate him so much you’d still keep his secret for him?”

“Don’t do that,” Iza shut her eyes and scrubbed her palms over her face. “Don’t… don’t fucking do that, Catch.”

“Sweetheart,” his armor clashed noisily against hers when he pulled her in close and brushed his lips over her cheek. “I’m not accusing you of anything.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“ _I’m not_.” Pursing his lips lightly, the taller man eyed her for a moment. “I’m just pointing out that you still have that sweetness in you that I love. You’re very loyal, Iza. That’s a _good_ thing.”

“The man doesn’t deserve to be tossed aside like trash just because he loves someone, Catch,” lifting her arms to wind them around his shoulders, Iza grumbled a little bit before resting her head under his chin. “He pisses me off _a lot_ , and he does things that make my skin crawl—but the Council is hard enough on him as it is. I’m not going to mix my personal issues with him into their shit.”

“That’s fair,” dropping a kiss to the top of her head, Catcher snickered. “Even still— _a senator?_ ”

“Oh— _stop_.” Pulling back from him to give him a look, she waved her hand at him. “Like it’s any big deal?”

“Iza…” dropping his arms from around her waist, he moved to take a seat on the edge of one of the beds. “It _is_ a big deal, Little Bit.”

“How is it any different from us?” Reaching up to run her fingers through her hair a few times, Iza began to slowly twist it into a tight braid; it made it easier to shove it under the helmet. “A secret is a secret, Catcher.”

“I’m not in a position of power. That’s the difference. If anything— _you_ had the power seat, sweetheart.”

“ _Had_. Now we’re equal.”

“We were always equal, according to you.” He smirked as he watched her fuss with her hair, waving her over so he could fix it for her when she began braiding it in the wrong direction the way she always seemed to do.

“We _are_.” Iza made a face at him. “I’m just saying, I don’t see the difference when the same things are at stake for him that were at stake for me.”

“Ah—but you forget the other side, sweetheart,” pulling her down onto his lap, Catcher rested his chin on her shoulder and smiled adoringly. “Senator Amidala would likely lose her seat if this sort of scandal came to light.”

“I _know_ that.” Giving an affectionate knock of her head against his, she playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s why I’m still _sort of_ cautious about how we behave at the base. Those who know don’t seem to mind. But there are others I’m sure who wouldn’t hesitate to turn us in and I… _no_.”

“Hush,” he pressed a series of kisses to her cheek and laughed when she tried to turn away in protest. “Don’t think these things.”

“Okay, _okay_ ,” snickering, she leaned back against his chest and turned to nuzzle the side of his head with a hum, happy to fall into the comfortable silence with him.

“When you said _feelings_ …”

“ ** _Catcher_**.” So much for that.

“Listen, I’m just trying to understand, Little Bit. Because… the behavior is _odd_.” And now that he had some context, he could see why this bothered her so damn much. “He seems to avoid _me_ a lot, doesn’t he?”

“He _does_ ,” why had that never occurred to her? _Maker_ , it was almost like he knew that if he behaved a certain way in front of Catcher that the Clone would likely lose his head over it. “The last time the two of you were even in the same room together was… well, when he walked in on us.”

“You mean when he decided that I was abusive towards you?”

Opening her mouth, Iza shut it again and sighed heavily, rubbing her hand over her face. She must’ve been drunk when she told him about that because she couldn’t recall ever blatantly telling Catcher that Anakin thought he was putting hands on her.

“He got his signals mixed—and I corrected them. He doesn’t know the difference between _possessive_ and _abusive_ , apparently.” Waving her hand, Iza stared at the floor. “But I would think that after that he’d be a little less evasive. Unless _you’ve_ done something I don’t know about.”

“Hey—” putting his hands up when Iza turned to look at him, Catcher shook his head. “I have never had the time to confront him for anything, Little Bit. I’m always with _you_ , remember?”

“I’m not accusing you, Catch,” kissing his chin with a snicker, she sighed. “I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand _any_ of it.”

“I do,” _unfortunately_. “He can sit and say that his feelings are _platonic_ all he wants, Little Bit. But he wouldn’t chase you or look out for you the way he does if there wasn’t something else there.” Shrugging, Catcher tried not to make a face. “It might not be… _love_ , but it’s something.”

Iza wouldn’t pretend that she didn’t notice how grabby he’d suddenly become. Hell, she could practically feel the heat of his hands through the plastoid as he gripped her torso and held her to him like he was worried she’d spring up and decide she wanted to join Anakin on the other ship. _As if_. Tilting her head, she lightly nuzzled at the curve of his jaw to get his attention and leaned back further to trap the silver hoop in his ear between her teeth, snickering as she gave it a tug.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t hold a candle to your love, Catch.” They could have as many ups and downs as the universe wanted to hand to them and Iza didn’t think she’d ever stop loving him. “You’re my _husband_. Nothing compares to that.”

“You’re buttering me up,” he tried not to smile—mostly because it kept the light flush of pink from tingeing his tan cheeks—and turned to steal a kiss. “But I appreciate it all the same, sweetheart.”

“I mean it,” leveling her gaze with his Iza brought a finger up to trace the scar on his chin, resting her forehead to his. “Nobody makes me feel safe and cared for the way you do.”

Catcher started to duck his head, letting out an almost bashful sort of laugh. He was more than happy to take the kiss she pressed to his lips, one hand coming up to palm her cheek as he opened up to deepen it. This wasn’t a good idea; there was still a good handful of men on this ship who had no idea what was going on between them. And when the banging on the door started, they both knew that they’d been busted.

“We should save it for later,” he murmured, stealing another soft kiss before nudging her up from his lap. “Maybe when we’re not on duty.”

“Right.” Grinning, she took his hand to pull him out of his seat and lead him out of the bunk room, startled when she found Popper on the other side of the door looking panicked. “Pop? What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a problem, General,” pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he turned to start walking back towards the holo-projector in the center of the main hub. Shooting a look at one another, Iza and Catcher each gave their linked fingers a squeeze before following.

“What is this?” Staring at the image that had been pulled up, Iza tried to make sense of the blinking red spots on the map, not sure she liked the fact that her Troopers were rushing around behind them.

“They’re going to shoot us down, sir,” Popper looked like he was trying to keep calm as he gestured to the projection. “We can’t reach them on the transmission to let them know we’re friendly. Slade’s been trying to reroute us but—”

“ _What do you mean **shoot us down**?_” Pulling out of the restraining grip Catcher had lain on her shoulders, Iza felt panic start to bubble in her belly. “Can you get in touch with Skywalker?”

“We’re trying, sir,”

“ _Try **harder**!_”

“Iza,” pulling her back so she wasn’t up in Popper’s face, Catcher tried to remain calm, jerking his head to dismiss his brother. He grunted when Iza pulled away from him and started pressing buttons on the transmitter in front of them, watching the way her fingers were shaking like she’d had one too many cups of caf. “Sweetheart,”

“ _Quiet_ ,” she was going to throw up. “ _Anakin?!_ For the love of the Force, _Anakin, answer the fucking comm!_ ”

She let out a desperate sounding gasp when the image of the younger man finally popped up in front of her, flickering like crazy as the signal wavered in and out.

“Iza?”

“ _Anakin!_ ”

“What’s… on?” _Hell_ , the transmission was cutting out.

“Anakin, you need to get in touch with the Ymacs!” Gripping the edge of the projector, Iza felt her head starting to spin as tears blurred the image in front of her. “They’re going to—”

The picture flickered out and he disappeared from view, making her scream out in horror and frantically try to get him back.

“No, no, no,” giving the console a hard kick, she swore at the top of her lungs and practically collapsed against Catcher when he wrapped his arms around her to drag her away before she caused any damage. “ _FUCK!_ ”

“Little Bit,” his mouth brushed her ear as he tried to speak as calmly as possible. “Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me.”

“Catch… _Catch_ ,” she clawed at his arms, kicking her feet out in an attempt to reach the console again like it might help get it back online. “Catcher I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not gonna die, sweetheart,” his voice was thick and rough, breath heavy as he pulled her tighter against him and grunted when someone shoved him from behind. He didn’t have the patience to yell at the Trooper; he needed to get her back into her head so she’d stop panicking. “I’ve got you, Little Bit. I’ve got—”

The first explosion rocked the side of the ship and sent them both flying forward to crash against the side of the console. Iza didn’t even have time to scream when the bright orange plume of fire brought her Troopers running in, yelling their heads off in military jargon that made no sense. Beneath her, Catcher still had one arm slung around her waist and was pulling her with him as he reached to drag a set of helmets closer.

“Put it on,” he didn’t have time to be gentle as he shoved one of them into her hands and worked on getting the other on over his head. “ _Fucking put it on, Iza!_ ”

She could only nod numbly and slip it on, barely managing to get the thing in place before a second explosion had her floating in mid-air with Catcher scrabbling to grab for her. She heard him yelling for her, felt his hand grab hers and then felt the hard slam of her body hitting the ground. The armor was unforgiving and knocked the air out of her lungs, leaving her weaker than before. She could feel the ship plummeting underneath her and if she picked her head up just right, she could see the green and brown landscape of the planet coming up fast through the transperisteel. Someone had her by the underarms and was pulling at her, yelling for her to get up. She tried; she pushed her feet flat against the floor of the ship and honestly _tried_ to get up, but there was so much going on that she kept getting distracted and slipping.

“ _Little Bit!_ ” Catcher was yanking at her now, hauling her across the floor of the hub with every last bit of strength he had. He needed to get them to a fucking escape pod before the damn ship hit the ground. Looking to his left when another set of hands came in to help, he recognized the red crescent on the side of the helmet and felt a sense of relief as Popper helped drag his wife to her feet.

“Get her out!” Pushing them both towards the back, he jerked when something else exploded. “ ** _GO_** _!_ ”

Lifting her onto his shoulder with a yell, Catcher tried to shove his way through the bodies of his panicked brothers. He knew they were all trying to get to the same place and knew there wouldn’t be enough pods for everyone. Maybe— _just maybe_ —someone would be willing to take her. If he couldn’t get out, she deserved to.

“Catcher!” Karver’s voice pulled his attention and he felt sick to his stomach to see his brother behind him with blood streaking down his face. The man was shaking his head and pointing towards the pod bay. “ _It’s gone! They’re **gone**!_”

 _Mother of the Maker_.

He would’ve collapsed right then and there if he wasn’t holding onto Iza. He couldn’t remember the safety protocol anymore; his mind was going completely blank as he tried to recall what they were supposed to do in this situation. A dry, humorless laugh left him when he realized—there _wasn’t_ any sort of protocol for this. If they were shot out of the sky, that was it. They’d make more and they’d move on. Because they were _Clones_ and they were **expendable**.

But Iza wasn’t a fucking Clone. She was a damn _person_ with a purpose far more meaningful than his and he had to get her off this fucking death trap before—

“Catcher,” her voice sounded so strange coming out of the helmet. “ _Catcher_ ,”

“I have you, sweetheart,” gathering her against his chest, Catcher dropped to his knees in the hallway and clung to her. “I won’t let go, Iza.”

“I love you. Catch, I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever—”

“Shhhh,” _fuck_ , he really was going to throw up. “I love you too, Little Bit. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

He wasn’t quick enough to grab hold of something when the ship began to nosedive and they slid forward on the ground, and he fell onto his back with a grunt, still holding tight to her as he skid towards the front of the ship. _Hell no_. He wasn’t going to die like that. Lashing a foot out to try and hook it on something, he felt himself stop mid-slide and looked up to find Iza with her arms stretched out and her fingers spread wide. She seemed to be straining herself as hard as she could to hold them in place, her rough holler of frustration the only real outward sign of her struggle to maintain focus through the panic.

“I can’t—I can’t hold it,” she whined, breathing hard as her muscles bunched uncomfortably and she let out another guttural scream. “ _Catcher, **I can’t hold it**!_”

“Let go,” he couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth. “Sweetheart, just let go.”

“ _I won’t!_ ”

“Iza,” sliding his hands along her arms, Catcher swallowed hard as he slipped his fingers in between hers and squeezed her hands. “Let go.”

A sob sounded from inside of Iza’s helmet as she closed her fingers around his and Catcher worked quickly to flip her onto her back, covering her with his body. Wrapping himself around her as tight as he could, he grit his teeth together and shut his eyes to try and block out all of the yelling and the sound of her hysterical crying echoing in his helmet.

“I have you,” he whispered, hoping she could hear him over the noise. “ _I have you, Little Bit_.”

The next thing he heard was the thunderous sound of the ship crashing into the ground.

And then everything went dark.

~*~*~*~

“ _FUCK! **FUCK**!_” Anakin was practically tearing his hair out as he watched the plume of smoke rise up from where he’d seen Iza’s ship barrel down into the planet. Obi-Wan set a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him and he shook him off violently, pushing him aside as he rushed to get closer to the transperisteel. “Don’t _touch_ me!”

“ _Anakin!_ ” Obi-Wan was just as unnerved as his apprentice by what had just taken place. They’d been too late in contacting the Ymacs before the first shot had been fired and he’d been dealing with the rising sense of hysteria coming from the younger Jedi ever since. Everyone on board their ship was frantically working to get down to the wreckage as fast as possible, but it didn’t seem to satisfy Anakin in the slightest.

“I’m so _stupid!_ ” Punching a rather large dent in the wall, Anakin heaved a harsh breath and leaned against it weakly. “She forced my hand! I should’ve fucking left her at the base where she belongs!”

“Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say to comfort the man. He wanted to tell him not to blame himself; this really wasn’t his fault. Nobody had known that this was going to happen.

“General,” Rex’s uneasy voice made Anakin turn quickly to face him, looking expectant. “Sir, have some faith in General Tacor and her men.”

“Faith?” The taller man let out a laugh and turned away with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a funny fucking thing to say, Rex. _Faith_.”

The Clone Captain pressed his lips together tightly and surveyed the wreckage as they got closer, swallowing that sick feeling that always arose when he knew he’d be digging the bodies of his brothers out of ship debris.

“You can feel her, can’t you?” He asked, shifting his gaze to the back of Anakin’s head. “You can do that, right?”

“I don’t feel _shit_.”

“ _Anakin_ ,” quickly losing his patience, Obi-Wan rubbed the spot between his eyes and turned to look over at Rex. “We’ll need to be closer, Captain. I’m afraid neither of us shares the right kind of bond needed to pick up on Iza’s signature from this distance.”

“Right.” Nodding, the blond excused himself and wandered back to where the others were preparing to offload.

“You need to reel it in,” Obi-Wan warned, watching as Anakin turned his head just enough to look at him. “I understand how upsetting this is. _I’m_ upset too. But you know better. You cannot lose your head over this, Anakin.”

“I’m _fine_.” No, he really wasn’t. The whole front of the ship pulsed with a kind of heat that only flared up during his worst outbursts and it was hard to tell whether or not the smell of smoke was coming from _him_ or the burning ship in front of them. Rubbing his upper lip, Anakin sniffed audibly and turned to start heading towards the back with the rest of the crew. He felt like he might throw a punch at his Master if he had to stand here for much longer. Ignoring when Obi-Wan called to him again, he flexed his fingers at his side and tried to beat back the burning feeling of guilt in his chest.

He hadn’t wanted this. He’d only wanted to give the woman what she wanted. That’s all _he’d_ ever wanted. She’d wanted her secret kept—he’d given that to her. She wanted him to back off when their act went to his head and caused him to develop an unexpected attachment—he’d given that to her, too. And when she’d wanted to be liberated from the Order and didn’t want anyone to save her—Force help him—he’d fucking bent over backwards to make sure she’d be taken in where she wanted to go. Now this; she’d wanted so much to have her Stars out on a fucking mission and he’d given it to her and _boy_ —he’d really fucked up this time.

Maybe it was some sort of payback for letting his heart stray off the path with Padme; he still loved his wife more than anything else in the universe. What he felt for Iza was _different_. He couldn’t explain why and it frustrated him to no end. Hell’s bells, he’d even confessed these feelings to Padme because he couldn’t understand them and she’d been so fucking _kind_ about it. She’d helped him realize that it wasn’t the same as what he felt for her. There was no love in the attachment, but it confused him all the same. He just wanted to _protect_ her, the same way he wanted to protect Ahsoka. His head had just become mixed up—that was all. He only hoped that she knew that.

“General,” Rex was at his side and he hadn’t even realized it. “We’ll touch down in a moment.”

“Thank you.” His voice was husky and didn’t sound at all like himself. _Whatever_. He couldn’t be bothered to care how he sounded to anyone else right now. He had far too much going on in his head to care about anything else.

~*~*~*~

Her whole body _hurt_.

The smell of something burning and the sounds of pained groans and hollers had roused her from the blackout and it took her a minute before her eyes would focus enough behind her cracked visor for her to look around. Something heavy rested on her chest and she couldn’t find enough strength to move it. There was blood in her mouth and in her nose and if she breathed too deep, her ribs screamed in pain. She couldn’t feel her left leg and the right one was in so much pain that even the slightest of twitches made her want to cry out.

“Catch…” _fuck_ , her head was spinning. She had to get this stupid helmet off. She couldn’t see a damn thing. “ _Catcher?_ ”

No answer.

Managing to pull an arm free, she reached up and fumbled with the helmet until it came off, grateful for the somewhat fresh air that followed its removal. Weary eyes looked around and landed on a figure draped over the projection console. Had it not been for the way the Trooper’s neck was twisted, she would’ve thought he was just passed out. A longer look had her gasping in horror when she saw the red crescent design on the helmet.

“ _Pop_ …” her voice was so damn weak and her throat was dry.

“Lit… _Lit_ …”

“Catcher?” Lifting her head to try and see where he was, Iza yelled in pain when something in her back pinched horribly. A weak hand pressed against her face, fingers lightly scraping over bruises and scratch marks as it attempted to pull her attention. Iza whimpered and turned in the direction they were turning her in and screamed out again when she saw Catcher beside her. They were both trapped beneath a heavy piece of durasteel paneling, and he had blood smeared all down the side of his face. He smiled at her weakly through the mess and traced a fingertip over her broken bottom lip.

“Told you,” he murmured, his breathing shallow. “Not gonna die, sweetheart.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” gritting her teeth, Iza pressed her palms against the underside of the panel they were stuck beneath, shutting her eyes tight as she tried to focus through the pain to try and lift it. “ _Come on, **COME ON**!_”

“Lit… Little Bit…”

“ _Shut the fuck up!_ ” It hurt so damn much to fight against the agony in her body, but Iza wasn’t going to quit until she’d moved this piece of shit. Letting out a scream that burned her lungs and set her throat on fire, she managed to lift the panel with a burst of Force energy, shifting it just far enough to get it off of them. She damn near blacked out again when she let go of it, gasping for air and blinking spots out of her vision. Turning her head to look at him again, Iza felt her stomach drop when she saw Catcher’s eyes were closed and his face had gone slack. “Catch?”

Nothing.

“ _Catcher?!_ ” Forcing herself to twist enough to try and touch him, Iza shouted in frustration when her body throbbed in protest. She could hear someone talking somewhere nearby and thought she recognized a voice, but her focus was on Catcher. She had to touch him, _had_ to make sure he was alive. Finally, she brought her hand up enough to brush her knuckles over his lips, but it was hard to tell whether or not he was breathing.

“ _Iza?!_ ” **_Anakin_**.

“ _HELP ME!_ ” Hot tears streaked out of her eyes and cut through the blood and the dirt on her face. “ ** _ANAKIN, PLEASE_** _!_ ”

The sound of debris scattering pulled her attention away from Catcher, if only for a moment. Giving Anakin a desperate look, she gestured to Catcher with a flick of her fingers and whined.

“ _Help_ ,” twisting her head to look at her husband again, she shivered hard and choked on a sob. “ _Help him, Anakin_.”

“We need to get you out of here,” Anakin sounded rushed as he looked her over like he was trying to figure out the safest way to do that.

“No,” shaking her head as much as she could, Iza gestured to Catcher again. “Him first.”

“ _Iza_ ,”

“Ani, _please_ ,”

His eyes went a little wide when she called him that. Only a select few called him that. Only a select few were _allowed_ to call him that. But he could see how damn desperate she was and he supposed he really couldn’t blame her.

“ _REX!_ ” Hollering over his shoulder, Anakin reached to press two fingers against Catcher’s neck, working his jaw in a concerned manner. “I need medical in here _NOW_ , buddy!”

“General!”

Iza turned tired eyes to where the sound of her name had come from and let out another sob when she saw Ze and Unk supporting a bad-off looking Karver. _Thank the Force_. She hadn’t lost all of them.

“ _Out!_ ” Anakin pointed towards the opening he’d come in from. “Get that man out!”

“Yes sir!” Nodding, Ze and Unk shot one last look at the two on the ground and carefully walked around the bodies of their fallen brothers, stopping only to let Rex and Kix inside along with the Medic Droid.

“She insists on him first,” waving a hand at Catcher, Anakin got up to get out of the way, keeping his eyes fixed on the brunette.

Iza had found the hand Catcher used to touch her face and was gripping it as tightly as she could, focusing on his face as her body shivered even harder from the pain it was in. It took a minute before Anakin realized what she was doing and he reached out to try and pry her fingers off of Catcher’s, getting a nasty look and an infuriated scream in return.

“ _Stop!_ ” He didn’t want to hurt her, but _Force_ —she was going to kill herself trying to heal him like that. “Iza, _please_.”

“He’s in bad shape,” Kix said, looking like he really didn’t want to say this in front of the woman. “We need to get him out now.”

“So do it.” Waving a hand, Anakin scoffed. “The fuck are you waiting for?”

“Iza,” kneeling in the space between her and Catcher, Rex settled his hand over hers. “You need to let go of him. Let Kix take him and we’ll help.”

“Don’t…” she was _so_ fucking woozy. Her breathing had become shallow and the pain was turning into a sort of heavy numbness that left her feeling cold. “Don’t let him…”

“We won’t,” carefully peeling her fingers back to loosen them, Rex jerked his head at Kix to indicate that he needed to move as quickly as possible to get the man out.

“Oh, _Force_ ,” Obi-Wan’s startled voice echoed off the walls of the wrecked ship as he came to join Anakin. “Anakin—”

“She won’t let me move her.” The younger Jedi sounded like he was going to be sick. “She wants him out first.”

Stepping aside so Kix and the med droid could get by, Obi-Wan turned back to look the young woman over. She looked _horrible_. Her right leg was twisted in a way a leg should never be twisted and the other was covered in so much blood he wouldn’t have known it was still there if it weren’t for the armor she wore. Her breathing was _extremely_ shallow and she seemed to be teetering on the fine line of consciousness and blacking out. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan pointed.

“You need to get her out _now_.”

“Pop…” Iza whined, raising a weak hand to gesture at the dead Trooper behind her.

“He’s gone, Iza,” Rex swallowed that sick feeling again, not wanting to look. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“…out…”

“ _After you_.”

“ **Now.** ”

“Don’t be stupid!” Anakin didn’t mean to yell but he couldn’t stand it. Even in her state she was more worried about these Troopers than she was worried about herself. To an extent, he could understand. But this was too much. “You’re next, Iza. _You_.”

She shook her head and turned her attention to Rex, reaching to take his hand.

“Please?”

He looked lost. He didn’t know what to do. If he did as she asked, Anakin would be furious. But at the same time, he didn’t want to make her even more upset than she already was. This was one of her men; she’d bonded with him. He understood.

“Get him out,” Rex said thickly, looking up at Obi-Wan. “Take him to the ship.”

Nodding, the older Jedi stepped around the small group and gingerly picked up Popper’s body, putting him over his shoulder to carry him out.

“You’re fucking _ridiculous_ ,” Anakin’s eyes were filled with a teary sort of fury that burned his whole body. “I fucking hate you.”

“Good.” Smiling at him lazily, Iza grabbed hold of Rex’s arms when he offered them, gritting her teeth against the pain as she tried to pull herself up. “ _Oh—fuck— **fuck**_.”

“Take it easy,” shifting so he could put a hand behind her and try to support her back, Rex poked his tongue into his cheek and shook his head. “I can’t lift her. It’s not a good idea. There’s too much blood and I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“ _Shit_ ,” stooping, Anakin leaned around to look and see if he could find the source, then brushed Rex’s hand out of the way to rest his in its place. “Hold still,”

“What…?” Sagging against the Clone beside her, Iza sucked in a sharp breath at the strange feeling of warmth that began to fill her torso. “Anakin?”

“Quiet,” he needed to concentrate. He’d only ever done this once before and it’d been on himself. He wouldn’t be able to do much more than maybe make it a little easier for her to move, but it’d be enough to hold her until they could get her into a tank.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Kix had returned with another droid and looked beyond upset. “You shouldn’t move her!”

“Is…” those horrible tears had returned to Iza’s eyes and she gripped Rex’s hand painfully tight as she stared up at Kix. “Is he…?”

“He’s in a tank.” The Clone’s brown eyes seemed to soften as he sighed heavily and came over to check her with a scanner. “He’ll be all right.”

“ _Thank you,_ ” that lazy smile returned to her lips, her grip on Rex’s hand loosening as her eyes started to close. “Thank…”

“ ** _IZA_** _!_ ”


	16. After the Fall, We'll Shake it Off

Everything smelled like pineapples. That was the first thing that ran through Catcher’s head when he first stirred back into consciousness. Every breath he took smelled like sickly sweet fruit and his body felt strangely out of sync with the gravity. Funny, considering the bedsheets he lay on were the same scratchy military grade bullshit he’d grown used to, so he knew he had to be at the base. Blindly reaching out to feel around for the soft body of his wife, he frowned when there was nothing but empty space to be found, and opened his eyes with a groan. The machines around him were loud and bright in comparison with the silent darkness of the rest of the room. Where the _hell_ was he?

“Little Bit?” _Ugh_. His mouth even tasted like pineapples. Had he accidentally swallowed some bacta? Pushing himself up on weak arms, he shook a wave of dizziness off and tried again, louder this time, “ _Little Bit?_ ”

“You need to lay back down,”

Turning to see Kix coming over with a look of concern on his face, Catcher frowned hard and settled back on the pillows.

“Where’s Iza?”

His brother said nothing as he held up a device that cast a blue light over him, typing something into a datapad before going around to check the machines surrounding him.

“ _Where is my fucking wife, Kix?_ ”

That got his attention. The other Clone flicked his gaze to Catcher’s and sucked his teeth before sighing.

“Tanked.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Up at the Temple. They insisted.”

“ _They?_ ”

“The Jedi.”

“No,” shaking his head with a laugh, Catcher started to throw the blankets back and let out a growl when Kix put a hand out to stop him. “I swear to the Maker, if you don’t—”

“She needs time, Catcher,” shooting his brother a look, Kix clenched his teeth. “She wrecked herself keeping your ass alive.”

“What?” It felt like Kix had punched him in the gut. “What are you talking about?”

“You do remember what happened, right?”

“The ship… yeah. I remember.”

“You…” rubbing his eyebrow, the other Clone turned a hand up. “You were as good as dead, brother. She did something. Healed you, I guess. Whatever it was, it took a lot out of her and she wasn’t in great shape to begin with.”

Running both hands into his hair, Catcher scrubbed his palms over his face and cussed. _Of course she would_. The little brat would throw herself onto a live grenade if it meant keeping him alive. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same; he could vividly recall using himself as a human shield to keep her from a fatal blow when the ship hit the ground.

“She’s alive. That’s what should matter.”

“It does,” he nodded, staring down at the blanket draped over him. Frowning as a thought slipped into his head, Catcher rubbed at his chin. “The others…?”

“Ze and Unk walked away with a few bruises and bumps. Karver’s leg will need replacing.”

“ _Replacing?_ ”

“We’re not sure how he lost it.” Turning his hands up, Kix moved to sit down on a nearby stool. “Those two carried him out. They found him trapped near where the pod bay was.”

“Popper?”

“Didn’t make it.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” pressing his knuckles against his lips, Catcher wondered how he was going to tell Iza. The Stars were everything to her—aside from him. She worked so damn hard to keep them safe; this was going to hurt her a lot.

“The rumors about her are painfully true, aren’t they?” Kix asked, smiling a little when Catcher turned to look at him in confusion. “She does care more about us than she does herself.”

The laugh that left him was loud and it echoed off the walls of his room, but Catcher could feel his chest tightening with the urge to cry.

“She’s so… fucking _stubborn_ ,” he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to stop himself if the tears fell. “It really fucking pisses me off.”

“She was very insistent that we take care of you first,” the smile on Kix’s face never faded, even when Catcher stared at him with a mixture of horror and something like devastation in his eyes. “There was no arguing with her. She even made us remove Popper before she’d let us take her out.”

“ _Dammit, Little Bit_ ,” putting his head in his hands, Catcher heaved a breath that _might_ have been a sob if it weren’t for the fact that it was soundless. The hand that came to rest on his shoulder startled him, but it took him a moment before he’d look up at Kix again.

“She’s all right. I did my best with her and I let the Jedi handle the rest. They tanked her because she exhausted herself—and because her leg was so badly broken.” Scratching the back of his neck, the other Clone offered an apologetic shrug. “I wasn’t sure about the blood at first. There was so much of it. I thought—maybe—it was… well…” he gestured near his pelvis, looking a little uncomfortable. “But see—she has this decoration on her lightsaber—”

“I _told_ her that was impractical.” Catcher groaned and leaned back onto the pillows. “She added that stupid blade thing to the hilt after she got it back. Said she wanted something more decorative and not as… _Jedi-looking_.”

“Well, she managed to pierce through her blacks with it.”

“But she’s okay?”

“Yes,” Kix nodded. “No permanent damage to any internal organs. Just the broken leg and some cracked ribs.”

“I guess that’s better than the alternative.”

“You did good, brother,” giving him a solid pat to the shoulder, Kix smirked at him proudly. “You two… are quite the pair.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that.” Catcher laughed quietly. “But thank you.”

“Some of the other survivors from your team mentioned seeing you throw yourself on her like your life depended on keeping her safe,” turning to eyeball the machines again, Kix fiddled with a few things needlessly. “And then I come in and she’s making demands to take care of _you_ and the others first while she’s bleeding out all over the place? Yeah—I think you were made for her, if you ask me.”

“You sound like Rex,”

“Speaking of,” Kix planted himself on the stool again and eyed his brother for a long moment. “How long has he known about the two of you?”

Another loud laugh rang out and Catcher could only shake his head and sigh up at the ceiling.

“I think since the beginning. Since she started showing up at the barracks.” Rubbing at his nose like it might do something to get rid of the nauseating smell of pineapple, Catcher turned a hand up. “He covered for us a lot. Snuck her in when General Windu forbade her to come down to see me. He’s a good man. He stuck his neck out for us, for sure.” Pausing, he turned and eyed the other man. “You’re not asking for some sort of intel, are you? Because if you’re going to get anyone in trouble, don’t make it the Captain.”

“It’s not for anything but my own curiosity, Catcher,” laughing, Kix shot him a look. “I’m genuinely just surprised you’ve been able to keep it reasonably quiet for this long. If I had a girl like that, I’d broadcast it to the Holonet without a single fuck given.”

“You know exactly why I couldn’t do that, Kix,”

“Of course I do.” Shrugging, he grinned. “Still wouldn’t stop me. Not much would. Except maybe the Jedi thing.”

“She’s not a Jedi anymore.”

“That’s what she kept saying,” rubbing at his chin, Kix pulled a face. “Kept yelling at Skywalker whenever she was conscious, too. Those two… they’ve got something they need to work out.”

“No, _Skywalker_ has something he needs to work out.” Another scoff and Catcher was glaring off into a corner. He knew he probably shouldn’t get pissed off while hooked up to so much machinery, but _man_ —the last thing he wanted to be reminded of was that little shit and his _feelings_.

“Well,” pushing himself off the stool, Kix gave his brother another solid pat on the shoulder. “Try not to dwell on it too much. Get some rest and I’ll see what I can do about bringing you something to eat.”

“I want to see Iza.”

“ _That_ I can’t do anything about.”

“Come on, man,” raking his fingers through his hair the man on the bed shot his brother a miserable look. “At least get me some news. _Something_. A telecomm. Anything.”

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Kix relented.

“All right. I’ll try.”

“ _Thank you_.”

“But don’t pull any funny shit if the Jedi decline the request. You know it’s out of my hands.”

“I won’t.” _Maybe_.

“Good. Now, _rest_.” Pointing, Kix turned to walk out, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “He’s as stubborn as she is. _Definitely_ made for each other.”

~*~*~*~

“She’ll be furious when she wakes up.” Obi-Wan said quietly as he observed the woman floating in the tank before him.

“I don’t care,” Anakin muttered back, sounding just as exhausted as he looked as he rubbed at his eyes and sank into a nearby chair. “This is what’s best.”

“I don’t think that’s up for you to decide, my friend.”

“She called out to _me_ , Master. Asked _me_ for help.” Thumping his finger against the arm of the chair, Anakin narrowed his eyes up at the older Jedi and huffed. “This is the best place for her and you know it.”

Obi-Wan frowned lightly and breathed a soft sigh. He supposed the younger man had a point. It was probably better to bring Iza here to the Temple where she could benefit from a more serene environment while she healed up. But something in his gut told him that the situation was _wrong_. It was almost cruel to have separated her from her lover and the rest of her men when she’d vehemently insisted that they be cared for before her. She would want to wake up among _them_ , not here in the Temple that she no longer considered to be her home or a place of sanctuary.

“You disagree with my decision.” Anakin sounded disgruntled. The boy had _consistently_ sounded disgruntled ever since they’d scooped up the survivors off of Ymac.

“I do.” Why lie? Obi-Wan had seen how hard Iza had struggled during those moments of consciousness. She’d fought with Anakin while he tried to explain his plan— _choked him_ , even, which was surprising given how little strength she seemed to possess—and she’d insisted to her very core that she wasn’t a Jedi and she didn’t belong in this _fucking Temple_. Master Windu had been the one to side with Anakin and bring her inside; _odd_ , considering how little the two seemed to ever get along.

“Well it’s too late.” The smugness in Anakin’s tone was grating on Obi-Wan’s nerves. “She’s here now, and she’s safe.”

“She’d be perfectly safe down at the base and you know it, Anakin.”

“I doubt it,” picking at a chip in the chair’s wood with his thumbnail, the younger Jedi scoffed. “They’d likely let her roam around and check on her men. They wouldn’t insist on her getting the rest she needs.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You saw how quick she was to influence Rex when I denied her something. Don’t tell me she wouldn’t do the same to the medical team down there.”

“Anakin,” folding his arms over his chest, Obi-Wan moved to stand between the tank and his apprentice, blocking out the light blue glow that was cast over the younger man’s face. “The only thing that influenced Rex was keeping another one of his men _alive_. That’s what she is, you know. She’s one of _his_ men now. She’s not ours.”

“She’ll always be a Jedi,” Anakin looked like he wasn’t pleased with what his Master was telling him. “ _You_ said that.”

“And I meant it. But she made the decision to become a soldier, and in doing so—she handed herself over to him.”

“ _Sithspit_.”

“Nobody is taking away your right to care about her, Anakin,” heaving a sigh, Obi-Wan had to refrain from rubbing his hands over his face the way he wanted to. He couldn’t visibly show how frustrated the other man was making him with all of these people milling about. “But you need to understand that she is not your responsibility.”

“You can’t stop me from trying to protect her.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and gave a light nod.

“No, no I cannot. However,” turning to look back at Iza’s blurred form, he waved a hand and then glanced back at Anakin. “I do believe that she deserves a say in the matter. And she has tried to tell you _multiple_ times to stop meddling.”

“It isn’t _meddling_ , Master Obi-Wan. It’s just—”

“When a person is so completely outraged by the idea of being pulled from the people that they love for the sake of their safety that they _try to kill you_ —I think that’s taking it a bit far, Anakin.”

“She didn’t try to _kill_ me,” his throat _had_ felt a little sore since the incident, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t ever been Force choked before.

“I had to subdue her. I had to put her to sleep in order to make her let go of you. Given the physical state that she was in, there should not have been any way for her to call upon _that_ much of the Force without reaching for some darker feelings, Anakin. She knew what she was doing.” Giving a fiercely pointed look, Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes a fraction. “She _would_ have killed you if I hadn’t intervened.”

Looking like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make some kind of cheeky retort or not, Anakin turned his blue eyes away and stared at the floor instead. He didn’t know what to say. Part of him knew that Obi-Wan was right, but the stubborn part didn’t want to admit it. He thought he was doing what was best for her by giving her the best care options he could. The Temple had all of the top-notch gadgets and droids and everything that the base couldn’t provide her with. And then there was the security of knowing that she’d _actually_ be safe here. The Clone base was loud and the Medcenter was often full of wounded troopers who would only inhibit the healing process. As much as he respected the men down there, he wasn’t willing to put her in their hands like this.

But perhaps that shouldn’t have been his call. Master Windu had been extremely accepting of the idea to bring Iza into the Temple while she healed up, but there’d been _some_ hesitance there as well. Anakin didn’t know if it was guilt weighing on the other man’s shoulders for not having tried harder to keep her here, or if he was only complying because Anakin had pleaded for his assistance. He’d said he didn’t want to be around when Iza woke up, which struck him as a little odd. He figured that the two of them still had some things to work out, but perhaps he was wrong about that too.

“Master Skywalker,” the soft voice of the Med Tech brought him out of his thoughts and had him looking over with a raised brow.

“Yes?”

“You have a communications request from Captain Rex,” holding the disc out to him, she smiled when he took it. “Please take your call into the next room.”

“Of course,” getting up from the chair, Anakin moved slowly out of the tank room and into the hall before pressing the button on the comm. “What’s up, Rex?”

“Sir,” the blue image of the Clone Captain was not alone; Catcher sat behind him on a bed, looking disgruntled as hell. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like an update on General Tacor’s condition.”

 _Of course_. Shifting his eyes from Rex to Catcher, Anakin heaved a sigh and let his shoulders sag in defeat.

“She’s stable. It’ll be another few hours before she’ll be moved from the tank to a bed.” No, he would _not_ look at the holo when he spoke. He could already feel the eyes of the Clones on him as it was. “After that, it’s a matter of waiting for her to wake up. You know the drill.”

“I want to come see her,” Catcher piped, sounding very much like he wasn’t going to take _no_ for an answer.

“Not right now.”

“ _Skywalker_.”

“There’s nothing to _see_ , Commander,” the edges of the comm disc bit into his fingers when he tightened his hold on it and Anakin had to take a minute to breathe and calm down before he ended up crushing it in his hand. “She’s tanked up. I can’t even bring the communicator in there.”

“You took her up there without even _asking_ , Skywalker,” Catcher’s voice was a rough growl and he looked like he wanted to jump through the transmission and strangle the life out of him. “You took her back to a place she _hates_.”

“It’s safer here. Quieter.”

“I’d feel better leaving her with a Sith.”

Anakin damn near dropped the communicator disc, managing to save face and scowl before he pointed.

“ _You listen to me_ ,” he had to try not to raise his voice in here, which was difficult. “I’m getting sick of people questioning my judgement calls. I did what was best for her, dammit! There’s _no way_ your people could keep her calm the way we had to. Ask Rex. Ask how many times Master Obi-Wan had to hold her down before he eventually forced her to sleep.”

“General,” Rex was giving him a hard look and a slow shake of his head. “She was upset with _you_. You told her where you were taking her and… I don’t know what it did, but I know she didn’t like it. You know I don’t like arguing against you, sir, but I have to disagree. I think General Tacor would have done just as well down here with the rest of us.”

“Well it’s a little late for that, buddy,” he didn’t want to snap at Rex. He really didn’t want to start a fight with him if he didn’t have to. “She’s here now and she’s ours until she’s ready to leave.”

“That’s my **_WIFE_** , Skywalker!” A pair of hands had to hold Catcher back as he tried to get up from his bed, but it didn’t stop him from gnashing his teeth and pounding a fist against the mattress he sat upon. “She’s _mine_. She belongs here with _me!_ ”

“I disagree,” Anakin tried not to visibly grind his teeth as he stared back at the other man. “She—”

“ _Anakin_ ,”

Turning on his heel to find Obi-Wan standing with his hands behind his back and an extremely concerned look on his face, the younger Jedi tapped the button to cut the comm off and shoved the disc into his pocket.

“Master,” clearing his throat, he started to head back into the room when Obi-Wan caught him by the elbow.

“I want her moved.” The elder Jedi said plainly, looking up at him.

“No.” Anakin shook his head.

“What you’re doing is _cruel_ , Anakin. That is not—”

“This isn’t your call, Master Obi-Wan.”

“It’s no longer _your_ call either, my friend,” Obi-Wan gestured to a figure standing inside of the tank room.

Petite and slim, the other person stared up at the woman suspended in the bacta tank and appeared to sigh heavily.

“Ani,” Padme turned worried eyes towards her husband and shook her head. “This isn’t right.”

“ _You_ ,” looking at Obi-Wan like he’d been betrayed, Anakin scowled hard and started to cross over to where Padme stood.

“I didn’t call her here,” laughing quietly, Obi-Wan waved a hand. “I’m just as surprised as you.”

“I got a message from a Clone Commander,” Padme said softly, looking Anakin over like she was trying to recognize him. Something seemed _off_ and she couldn’t put her finger on it. “ _Her_ Clone Commander. Anakin,” frowning lightly, she fixed her brown eyes on the tank and reached up to touch the transperisteel. “She should be with him. You know better.”

“Padme,” pressing his lips together tightly, he frowned. “She’ll heal better here.”

“Would you excuse us, Master Obi-Wan?” Smiling at the other Jedi, Padme returned the light nod he gave and waited until he’d fully left the room before turning her gaze back to Anakin. “Would you want someone to do the same to _us_ , Anakin? If we were in their shoes—would you want the same?”

“I would want someone to take care of you.” Reaching for her hand, he gingerly curled his fingers around hers and felt guilt wrap around his heart when Padme fixed him with a stern look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I didn’t do this to cause pain.”

“But you _have_ , Ani,” pushing his palm up against the side of the tank, she kept her eyes level with his. “Tell me what you feel.”

 _Fear_. He could feel fear and sadness through the warmth. A sick sort of coldness crept into his chest threatened to suffocate him and he grit his teeth when Padme kept his hand pressed into place.

“She’s scared,” he answered finally, lowering his eyes to the toes of their shoes. “I’ve never felt that from her before. Not like that.”

“If you don’t want that fear to get worse, then you need to have her moved to the base.”

“But Padme—”

“I have the authority to take her back without asking, Anakin.” Straightening her back, Padme lifted her chin in a manner that _painfully_ reminded him of how Iza liked to make herself look taller than she really was. _Damn_ —he really had a fucking type, didn’t he? “So you can either hand her over willingly, or I’ll just have her removed and we’ll discuss it later.”

 _Kriff the Chancellor_. She was really boxing him in, wasn’t she? The longer he kept his hand pressed to the tank and his eyes fixed on his wife, Anakin felt his resolve starting to chip away. He couldn’t argue that she had a point; he wouldn’t want to be separated from her if they were in the same situation as Iza and Catcher. He’d likely be just as upset and disgruntled as the other man if someone else tried to make a decision for his wife without his consent.

“You brought a Medical Transport, didn’t you?” He was unable to stop a smile from gracing his lips, feeling his features soften when Padme smiled back.

“Of course I did.”

Casting a cautious glance around, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Go ahead and send them up. I’ll inform the staff that she’ll be leaving.”

“Thank you, Anakin,” running her fingers down the side of Anakin’s face, Padme smiled wider and probably would’ve given him a proper kiss if not for the fact that there were _too many_ people in this building. “I promise, you’re doing the right thing.”

“Yeah,” letting go of her so she could run off and make the arrangements, Anakin turned his blue eyes to the woman suspended in the tank, heaving a sigh. “I know.”

~*~*~*~

Iza was never going to eat another pineapple again. Her olfactory senses had been so bombarded by the stench and flavor of them that she felt sick to her stomach as she twisted under her sheets and rubbed at her face blindly to try and get rid of it. Whoever thought it’d been a good idea to half drown her in a fucking bacta tank was going to have their head kicked in as soon as she was able to get up. Rolling to the edge of the bed, she felt her stomach turn and then drop sharply when her head spun wildly and threw her off balance.

“ _MAKER!_ ” A pair of plastoid covered arms caught her before she hit the ground and Iza whined when her face collided with the swell of a pauldron.

“What’s going on in here?” The familiar voice that wafted in was garbled and concerned.

“She fell off,” Rex grunted, trying to gather the woman up enough to put her back in the bed. “Come on, Kix. Help me out here.”

A second set of hands helped haul Iza back onto the center of the bed and she brought weak hands up to rub at her face. It took a long time before Iza could open her eyes against the bright light in the room and she could hear someone murmur something about turning them down to make it easier on her. It was better to just keep them closed. Her head swam so hard with questions and a sick sense of dizziness that, in combination with the smell of the bacta, threatened to make her dry heave.

“… _Cat… Catcher?!_ ” she couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t feel him nearby. Her senses were so damn dulled that she was having a hard time even placing where she was. “ ** _CATCHER_** _?!_ ”

“I’m here,” he sounded out of breath and tired and she heard someone grumble at him harshly before the bed dipped and his heavy warmth came to rest beside her. “I’m here, Little Bit,”

She couldn’t smell him past the stench of pineapple; there was no spicy blend of caf and whatever the hell was in the soap he used. Was it even _him?_ Blind fingers sought out his face, trembling as she mapped out his features. Smoothing over the scratch of days-old stubble on his jaw, she let out a soft sob when she passed over the scar on his chin and flung her arms around his neck.

“ ** _CATCHER_** _!_ ”

The warmth of his face pressing against her neck seemed to clear up the fog in her head, his choked laugh pulling her free from the sick sensation leftover from being stuck in the damn bacta tank for so long.

“I told you,” he murmured against her skin, carefully slipping his arms under her to pull her tight against his chest. “I fucking _told_ you, Little Bit.”

Blinking hard against the bleariness still in her eyes, Iza combed her fingers up his back and into his hair, grasping onto him as her breathing came in shallow heaves. She’d been so fucking terrified that she’d wake up without him. Her mind had been so scrambled from all of the pain and the drugs and whatever else had gone on that she didn’t know what was real anymore. But this— _this_ was real. He was real and he was alive and she wasn’t ever going to fucking let him go again.

“Hey,” calloused hands came up to cup her face as dry lips brushed over her cheeks and forehead. “Sweetheart, take it easy,”

“Say it,” her hands came around to cradle his head in her palms and she focused on his face, leaning up to rest her forehead to his. “ _Catch_ , please,”

“I have you, Little Bit,” smiling, he nuzzled his nose across hers and smoothed his fingers into her hair. “I have you and I love you and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Stealing about a dozen little kisses one after another, Iza tried not to sob against his mouth as a smile split across her lips.

“I love you so much. _So, so much_.” Shaking her head, she pulled back to look at him and check him over for any permanent damage, her fingers tracing his cheeks and his ears and anywhere else they could reach within reason. “I was so scared. _Maker_ , I was so afraid I’d lose you.”

“I heard what you did,” kissing her fingertips when they passed his mouth, he shot her a look and tapped the end of her nose. “You’re such a foolish girl, Little Bit. So stubborn. _Such a brat_.”

“I couldn’t just _leave_ you,” swallowing thickly, she blinked harder and rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye. _Force_ , was it always like this after a tank session? “I couldn’t leave any of you.”

“ _Foolish_.” Picking his head up, Catcher motioned to Kix for something to get the lingering gunk off her face with and took the wet cloth that was handed to him with a nod of thanks. Brushing her hand out of the way, he started to gently dab it across her closed eyes to clean them. “But admirable, Little Bit,”

“Popper…” she felt sick as the hazy image of the Clone’s twisted neck invaded her mind. “I couldn’t…”

“Shhh,” Silencing her with a quick kiss he shook his head even though she was currently blind to the motion. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“The Stars?” Opening her eyes, she gave him such a desperate look that it made his chest ache. “Catch?”

“They’re okay. Ze and Unk got lucky.”

“Karver?”

“He’ll be all right. He’s gotta get used to some new parts, but he’ll be up and walking around soon.”

Iza sank back against the pillows with a heavy sigh of relief, giving Catcher enough time to start wiping down her cheeks with the cloth. She tasted of bacta and it was a little nauseating for him. For a few minutes, he just let her have some time to settle down, though he became acutely aware of the way her body suddenly tensed up and her fingers tightened in the material of his medical tunic.

“Little Bit?”

“He took me away,” her voice was rough and dark, and the look in her eye startled him. “I remember him fighting me.”

“Iza…”

“I…” Lifting her hand, she looked at it and started to curl the fingers before looking back at Catcher. “I hurt him.”

“He’s fine,” Rex piped from his spot near the bed, startling both of them. They’d forgotten that they had a bit of an audience. “I assure you, General Skywalker is _fine_.”

“He brought me to that place, didn’t he?” Locking teary green eyes to Rex’s soft brown ones, she got a nod in return and growled low in her throat before turning away again. “Fucking—”

“ _No_ ,” Catcher’s finger pressed against her lips and drew her attention back to his face. “None of this right now. Get it out of your head, Little Bit.”

Threading her fingers into his hair, Iza gave an affectionate little tug and sagged against the bed. She didn’t have the energy to do this. As mad as she was, she didn’t feel like dealing with the flare-up it would cause. Honestly, all she wanted to do was pull Catcher underneath this stupid, uncomfortable blanket and go back to sleep.

“How is she?”

Too bad for her that it sounded like _someone else_ had other plans.

“Get the _fuck_ out.” Iza snapped, not bothering to even look in Anakin’s direction. Instead, she tucked herself closer to Catcher and blocked her face from view completely.

“Iza—”

“ _Get him out, Rex!_ ”

“General,” Rex looked sorry as he gestured for Anakin to follow him, but the Jedi didn’t move from his spot. “Sir,”

“I brought her back,” grinding his teeth, Anakin looked between Kix and Rex as his fingers flexed at his sides in irritation. “You told me that you’d keep me updated.”

“And I’d be _happy_ to do that if you’d just—” Kix ducked out of the way when something whizzed past his head and nearly clocked Anakin in the face. Had the man not shot a hand out to stop it in time, the datapad surely would’ve cracked him right in the middle of the forehead.

“ ** _OUT_** _!_ ” Iza sat up on her bed with Catcher’s hands braced on her shoulders. He seemed to be trying to talk her down from her outburst, but she blatantly ignored him and kept her gaze fixed on Anakin instead. “You’re not welcome here, Skywalker.”

“You don’t make those rules, Iza,” he challenged, feeling a little uneasy about the look in her eye. It was the same one she’d had when she’d pulled her stunt on the ship and he had a bad feeling she was about to try choking him again. Only this time, she had far more energy and will to fight.

She’d started to raise her hand when Catcher grabbed it and pushed it flat against the bed, pressing his forehead to hers and locking their gazes together.

“ _Enough._ ” He’d climb on top of her and pin her to this bed if he had to. “I want to do it too, Little Bit. You don’t understand how much I want to do it too. But you _can’t_.”

Iza twisted a little under his grasp and stilled when he pushed his chest into hers. Searching his eyes silently for a moment, she huffed and turned away, laying back down and keeping her eyes pointed at the other side of the room.

“Give him the information he wants, Kix,” Catcher snapped, loosening his hold once he was sure Iza wasn’t going to pull a fast one and attack Anakin. “Give it to him and get him out.”

“Yes sir,” nodding, Kix gestured Anakin towards the door and got the same reaction Rex had, only this time the Jedi seemed to comply. Both the medic and the Captain followed Anakin to make sure he actually vacated the room and once they’d gotten outside, Rex was the first to sigh.

“I’m sorry, General,”

“Don’t be,” Anakin glared at the door when it slid shut behind them. “It’s not your fault.”

“You can’t blame her for being upset, sir,” putting his hand up when the Jedi turned his scowl toward him, Rex grimaced. “What I mean is—you should have waited to come and see her. This was a traumatic experience for them both, and you know what she was like on the ride home. She wasn’t going to take kindly to your presence, sir.”

“She asked for _my_ help, Rex,”

“I know, sir.”

“I don’t understand—”

“With all due respect, I don’t think you ever will.” Rex looked like he hated himself a little bit for having to say that so forcefully, but he didn’t know how else to get the point across. “Sir—there’s no one here that knows better than I do what sort of things you’ve done for me and my men. And we’ve been through some rough things together. But this is different.” Waving to the closed door the blond shook his head. “You deliberately separated them at a fragile time, sir. You argued with her about taking her back to a place she doesn’t feel welcome or _safe_ when she was in a deep state of shock and confusion. I’m not sure you realized it, but she believed that Catcher was _dead_. Taking her away and putting her up in that Temple… I’m sorry sir, but her anger is justified.”

“I don’t think it gives her the right to try and kill me.” Folding his arms over his chest, Anakin tried not to look disgruntled. He hated that Rex had a point. It wasn’t a very _good_ point, in his opinion, but it was a point nonetheless.

“No sir, it doesn’t.” Waving a hand, the blond ran a hand over his buzzed head and shrugged. “But what would you do?”

That was twice someone had done that to him. _Fine_ ; good point made.

“You let him call Padme?” Raising an eyebrow, Anakin fixed Rex with an accusatory look and got a sheepish one in return.

“In… fairness, I didn’t know he’d done that before I comm’d you.” Rex pointed at Kix. “He’s the one that let him have the comm before I showed up.”

“Don’t drag me into this!”

“You dragged yourself into it, Kix.”

“ _Captain_ , I don’t know what you wanted me to do. He kept threatening to go up there and take her back himself.” Looking frustrated, Kix dared a glance at Anakin and tried to offer an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know he’d call a senator.”

“How did he know to call Padme?” Blue eyes shifted from Kix to Rex and narrowed slightly.

“Don’t look at me.” Rex’s hands went up defensively. “I’ve never said a damn thing to him about—er—the Senator’s military pull.”

 _Damn_. Iza must’ve said something. That was the only explanation Anakin could come up with. Smart move, really. Aside from asking the Chancellor, it was probably the only thing that could’ve gotten him to give her up and let her be taken from the Temple. Heaving a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and finally turned a weary gaze to Kix.

“So, what’s her status?”

“Stable, as you can see.” Shrugging, the medic went to his belt for the datapad clipped there. “Bones have healed and there will be minimal scarring from the blade wounds. She’ll need a few days of rest and perhaps a psychological evaluation, but she should be good to go within a week or two.”

“I don’t want her back in the field.” Anakin shook his head. “I don’t want… I don’t want any of them back on the field.”

Kix and Rex exchanged a look but only the blond spoke.

“Sir?”

“How…” pressing his lips together, Anakin squinted in thought. “How does the Army work with Honorable Discharge?”

“It doesn’t.” The Clone Captain looked confused. “Not with us. We continue on until we die, sir.”

“There has to be a way around that, surely?”

“The only way around it is to desert your post, sir,” Kix said quietly, glancing around to make sure none of the passersby heard him. “I don’t think anyone in that group would be willing to do that, even after everything they’ve just gone through.”

Yeah. Anakin had a bad feeling that Iza would sooner eat the kyber in her lightsaber than abandon post. The woman had become so damn passionate about serving the Republic that he was pretty sure that nothing short of being discharged would keep her from fighting. Not even this.

“You said the senator has military pull,” Kix pointed and looked between Rex and Anakin. “Why not ask her?”

Anakin’s smile was faint and warm, though the look in his eyes teetered on being sad. He didn’t think Padme would be able to do much. _The Chancellor on the other hand…_

“I can try that.” Nodding, he blew out a breath. They didn’t have to know he wasn’t going to ask Padme. He knew this was a shot in the dark; the Chancellor had granted him so many favors that he’d lost count. Asking for him to Honorably Discharge Iza and her men would no doubt be costly—but it’d be worth it to get her the hell out of here. He had to tell himself that.

“Sir,” Rex looked hesitant. “I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do.”

“Why not?”

“You’d be taking away her sense of purpose. You’d be taking it away from all of them. _Without even asking_.” The blond eyed Anakin and gave a questioning shrug. “Don’t you think they should have a say?”

 _Damn it_. He hated to admit that the man had a point. _That was two now._

“Yeah,” shifting his gaze, Anakin nodded. “That’s… probably a better idea. Asking first.”

“Considering all the fuss she’s made over the choices _you’ve_ made for her?” Rex laughed and winced. “I’d say so.”

“All right. I’ll leave it for now. But I want updates on everyone’s progress.” Anakin turned to Kix and held a finger up. “If she tries to tell you not to do something, remember that _I_ outrank her. Her orders do not undermine mine.”

“Yes sir,” Kix nodded.

“You can play along if you feel like you have to,” he didn’t need Iza hurting any of these Clones. He had a distinct feeling she _wouldn’t_ , but it was better not to take chances. “But—”

“I understand, sir,”

“Good. Rex?”

“Yes General?”

“Keep an eye on her for me.” Sucking his teeth, Anakin snorted. “I think it’d be best if I made myself scarce around here for a while, you know? If you see anything you think I should know about—”

“—I’ll report straight to you, sir. Understood.”

“Good man. Both of you.” Giving each Clone a quick pat on the shoulder, Anakin glanced to the door one last time before setting his jaw and turning to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

~*~*~*~

“Don’t be upset with me, Little Bit,” Catcher had been trying for ten minutes to get Iza to look at him but she’d only continued to stare at the wall. She seemed determined to make him feel guilty for not letting her wrap her little force fingers around Anakin’s neck and so far, it was working. “Sweetheart,”

Iza hadn’t been ignoring him; not really. She’d been focusing her ears on the conversation going on just outside the door and she’d tuned Catcher out as best as she could so she wouldn’t miss anything. As soon as she heard Anakin dismiss himself, she relaxed a little and finally turned to look back at her husband. Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his in a soft, apologetic kiss and brought her fingers up to brush them against his unshaved jaw.

“I’m not upset,” she whispered, rolling onto her side with a grunt so it was easier to look at him. “I was snooping.”

He gave her a look that was both annoyed and relieved at the same time.

“You could _say something_ next time.”

“I’m sorry,” kissing him again, she offered a smile and gave a light tug to the front of his medical tunic, urging him to shift closer. “Come here.”

“Sweetheart,” letting out a quiet laugh, Catcher shook his head and glanced towards the door before obliging. He even took the extra step of slipping beneath the blanket to make it easier to curl up to her and pull her into his arms. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he hummed. “You’ll get me in trouble, you know.”

“We’re both in recovery. There’s no reason to take up two beds.”

“Kix is not going to see it that way.” And neither would anyone else roaming through the Medcenter. “He already yelled at me for getting up here with you.”

“He can yell all he wants,” slipping an arm over him, Iza snuggled into his chest and twisted her fingers in the material of his tunic. “I’d like to see him try to take you from me.”

“ _Little Bit_ ,”

“Don’t _Little Bit_ me, Catcher,” frowning when she looked up at him, the brunette huffed and shook her head. “You know exactly the kind of hell I went through. _You_ went through it too. If he truly does not want us in the same bed, he can push two of them together. I am _not_ —”

“You,” pressing his fingertip against her lips, Catcher shot her a look. “Need to stop being so stubborn, sweetheart. This is a situation where you need to let someone else have control. I understand _completely_ how you feel, but nobody is going to take us away from each other again.” Kissing her between the eyes, he lingered for a moment before pulling back to look at her again. “You can’t fight this, Little Bit. Please don’t try.”

Iza looked incredibly frustrated as she stared back at him, her lower lip jutting out in a slight pout as though it might do something to sway his stance. No dice; Catcher was firmly planted in this camp and wasn’t going to move. Heaving a sigh, the brunette rubbed a hand over her face and lightly smacked it against his chest with a whine.

“ _Mean to me_ ,” she mumbled, closing her eyes when he pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the side of her head.

“No sweetheart,” Catcher murmured into her hair, running his hand down her back. “Not mean. I love you too damn much and I don’t want you getting in trouble because of your stubbornness.”

“ _Fine_.”

“Good girl,”

“But you stay here for now,” she was going to grab onto more of that tunic to make her point, too. “I mean it. Unless Kix tries to drag you away, _you stay_.”

“Okay,” chuckling, Catcher peppered tiny kisses all over her face and rested his head against hers. “I’ll stay, but you need to rest.”

“ _Deal_.”


	17. Please Put Away Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S M U T.

It would be another two weeks before any of the Stars would see the inside of their barracks again and when they did, Iza nearly fell apart at the sight of the other three surviving members of her squad. Decked with new scars and one with a cybernetic leg, they’d greeted her with bright smiles and rough hugs that she spent a long time returning. It hurt her heart to pass by Popper’s empty bunk and see nothing but his helmet sitting atop his untouched pillow. There’d been no real service for him or any of the others who’d died during the crash, but Iza had been extremely adamant about giving him the kind of funeral a Jedi would have. It’d taken a lot of arguing with Rex—and a lot of exchanged swear words and yelling—before he’d agree to let her have his body, and they’d held the small ceremony in secret off base. She’d kept a handful of the pyre ashes when it was over, scattering the rest to the wind so he wouldn’t have to rest forever on Coruscant. The remaining ashes had been funneled into vials that she’d given to the rest of her squad for safekeeping. She wore hers on a chain around her neck, tucked beneath her undersuit while the others kept theirs in the ammo cases on their utility belts.

Each of them seemed to take turns having nightmares. Some nights, all of them would wake up in a cold sweat, unable to breathe and sick to their stomachs. Those were the nights they’d gather around on the floor of the barracks and just talk quietly or play Sabacc. Funny how it seemed as though none of the other survivors had the issue. During a particularly bad night, Iza managed to send an entire row of—thankfully empty—bunks toppling over and absolutely refused to go back to sleep afterward. Catcher had squeezed into her bed that night, and every night after that when they realized that the other occupants of the barracks were more concerned with getting _sleep_ than whatever was going on between the two of them. Most of them claimed to have figured it out a while back anyway and weren’t too interested in their brother’s personal affairs as long as he kept it casual when necessary. It was a welcomed sense of comfort to know that they had that sort of support, but it still did little to quell the demons that liked to visit in the middle of the night.

It seemed to hit Iza the hardest, since she hadn’t been engineered to resist symptoms of post-traumatic stress and she’d long since abandoned her meditative practices. Her moods shifted faster than ever before and she became far more aggressive than she needed to be at times. And then there were the days she would just lie around and not move for hours; those were the days that worried Catcher the most. He didn’t know how to help her and didn’t know who to go to that might. His first thought was to maybe see if someone could get her Master in here to see if that might help, but the other Stars had been quick to point out what a bad idea that was. Iza would likely take that as some sort of betrayal. She’d started avoiding the Jedi on the base again to the point of ducking into buildings if she so much as sensed the signature of another Force user in her presence. One of the few she didn’t seem to shy away from was Ahsoka. She never directly approached the girl, but she also never blatantly avoided her presence either. _Strange_ , considering that she was a direct line to Anakin. But Catcher knew better than to question his wife’s reasoning for certain things, especially when she was in such a weird state of mind.

“Hey,” he’d found her one morning sitting out in one of their favorite spots on the base, fiddling idly with the vial around her neck. “You okay?”

“I wish you’d stop asking me things like that,” shifting to lean on him when he sat next to her, Iza nestled her head in the crook of his neck and sighed. “It’s going to be the same answer every time, Catch. _I don’t know_.”

“Nightmares?” Taking her hand in his, he brought her knuckles to his lips to kiss them and wound his other arm around her back to hold her closer.

“No.” For once. “Something’s wrong. There’s something…” Licking her lips, she stared out at the view they had of the city and frowned, hovering her hand over her chest. “I can feel something… _wrong_.”

“With you?”

“I’m not sure.” She shook her head and looked up at him, her green eyes soft with worry. “I don’t know if it’s _me_ or Master Windu or Anakin… but something… the Force is trying to tell me something, Catcher. I don’t know what it is.”

He hesitated for a moment before running his fingers under her chin.

“Do you want me to take you to the Temple?”

“I can’t go there, Catch,” that wasn’t entirely true; Master Obi-Wan had told her she’d be allowed to come back if she wanted to, but only if she had the intention of returning to the Order. She only needed answers.

“I can have Rex send a message to Skywalker,” he spoke carefully, keeping his eyes glued to hers for any color shifts. She’d had a lot of those as of late. The pretty peridot shade would lighten to something closer to amber in color when her moods plummeted into that gut boiling rage he could feel radiating off of her at times. He didn’t want to run the risk that even bringing up the little bastard’s name would throw her into a fit of anger. “He doesn’t have to come here. It could just be a check-in.”

“No,” shaking her head, she looked away from him and set her head on his shoulder again. “I’ll do it.”

That made him tense uncomfortably. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to deal with Anakin on her own, he just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. With as unstable as she’d become over the last couple of weeks, it was hard to tell what would and what wouldn’t throw her off balance anymore. But Catcher knew for sure that if the Jedi said the wrong thing to her, or pulled any of his usual bullshit—there was a damn good chance that he’d send his wife careening off an edge that he couldn’t pull her back from.

“Kix has been feeding him enough lies,” giving a soft laugh as a guilty look crossed her face, Iza seemed to refuse to want to look at him. “I think it’s time he saw how I’m really doing.”

“What do you mean _lies_ , Iza?”

“Did you really think I’d let Kix tell Anakin how I’ve been?” She hadn’t _wanted_ to influence the Clone—she really hadn’t. But she also didn’t want Anakin up in her business when he had no right or reason to be. “You _honestly_ haven’t questioned why he hasn’t come down to check on me?”

“I have,” frowning a little, Catcher tried to keep the disappointment from bleeding into his features. Iza had always sworn to never use her abilities against him or his brothers. He could understand why she’d do it in this situation, but it didn’t make him any less uncomfortable. “I just thought maybe Kix was dumbing it down for your sake all on his own.”

“Oh _no_ ,” laughing, the brunette shook her head. “ _No_ , darling. He wanted very much to tell Anakin that I’ve been waking everyone up with the nightmares. I’ll be lucky if Rex hasn’t said anything to him.”

“I don’t think Rex has been checking in the way he said he would,” Catcher’s brows furrowed lightly in thought. “I think he’s been too busy lately.”

Grunting, Iza sighed and tilted her head to kiss his cheek, smiling when Catcher turned and kissed her properly.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go?” He asked, running the pad of his thumb along her jaw.

“I’ll bring my communicator.” She promised, nuzzling at his cheek. “I swear I’ll call if I need you.”

“You’d better.” Tapping the end of her nose playfully, he kissed it and nudged her. “Let’s get some food into you first, okay? I know you skipped dinner last night.”

“I ate a ration bar,” making a face, Iza stuck her tongue out and started to pull herself to her feet. “I didn’t skip out _completely_ , Catch.”

“That…” heaving a sigh, Catcher rolled his eyes and stood up, deciding that it wasn’t worth the argument. He supposed she was right; she’d eaten _something_ and that was what mattered. “Just come have breakfast with me and I’ll let you go, okay?”

“ _Okay_ ,” slipping her arms around his waist with a laugh, Iza leaned into his side and let him lead her towards the mess hall.

~*~*~*~

 _Something_ wasn’t right. Anakin had been uneasy since early that morning and he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. He hadn’t said anything about it to Obi-Wan or Ahsoka, and neither of them seemed to sense anything out of place. If they did, they certainly hadn’t brought it up to him. He’d taken it upon himself to try and meditate further on the feeling—something he didn’t actively do much of these days—and still couldn’t seem to pinpoint what it was that was causing the problem. But as morning turned into afternoon, he felt that sensation deepen in his chest and spread to his gut and he just _knew_ he couldn’t stay in the Temple.

Excusing himself from a conversation he’d been having with Master Plo and Obi-Wan, Anakin walked briskly out of the room and through the halls. It felt like he was being pulled by an invisible rope tied around his waist, but he had no idea where the hell it was taking him. He just knew that feeling was growing heavier and heavier as he walked between the pillars leading the way out of the building, his footfalls echoing noisily against the steps as he took them two at a time in his haste. A growing sense of agitation built up between his shoulders as he practically charged down a walkpath that would lead him to an emptier part of the city and by the time he felt that invisible rope vanish from around his middle, he was almost too tense to think properly.

“Took you long enough.”

Iza’s voice sent a strange chill up his back and Anakin twisted to find her propped up against a rusted, hollowed out shed. It was strange to see her wearing parts of her Jedi robes in combination with the military blacks; stranger still to realize that she’d been what had called him out here. That odd heaviness in the air seemed to be radiating from _her_ and Anakin had no idea what to make of it.

“I didn’t know I was on a time limit.” Doing his best to not look as tense as he felt, Anakin watched her push off of the decrepit building. Her movements were fluid and so unlike her normal self that he was having a hard time figuring out if this was really _her_ or if someone was pulling a very good trick on him. “You couldn’t send a message?”

“You wouldn’t have acknowledged it.” Shrugging, she rubbed at her neck and Anakin had to do a double-take when he realized there was a red crescent tattoo decorating her skin. He faintly wondered when she’d had it done, but shook the thought from his head when she started to walk closer.

“Are you okay?” Well, he needed to know. Kix had been feeding him the information he’d asked for, but it had slowed in the last week or so. It had all sounded the same too, which he supposed wasn’t abnormal. But the things he’d been told were not lining up with what he was seeing in front of him. Iza did not _feel_ like she was fine; she did not _feel_ like she was doing as well as Kix’s reports claimed. Either someone had lied to him or someone had been _manipulated_ into lying to him.

“Nope.” Shaking her head with a laugh, Iza turned her hands up and ran one of them through her hair, giving it a hard tug as she sighed. “I’m not fucking okay, Anakin. I’m _not_.”

He didn’t know why that made his chest hurt the way that it did, or why he felt a sudden urge to go to her. Maybe it was the way her face had crumbled when she looked at him. There was a lost sort of look in those green eyes of hers and he suddenly felt like he _had_ to do something about it. This was _his_ responsibility because he’d made it his responsibility—and he’d fucking neglected it. Now look at her; she was falling apart at the seams and he was scrambling for a solution to a problem he didn’t even fully understand.

“What can I do?”

“I’m not sure,” shrugging, Iza turned her gaze to the ground beneath their feet. “I don’t know if there’s anything that _can_ be done.”

“What do you mean?”

Both of her hands came up like she was trying to figure out how to explain it. A pained sort of expression twisted her features and Iza shut her eyes, shaking her head vigorously before giving her forehead a good frustrated smack with her fists. A growling yell followed it and she turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to hide the way she was breaking down from him.

“It doesn’t _stop_ , Anakin!” Gnashing her teeth together, Iza swallowed hard and tugged at the sleeves of her robe. “I can’t… I can’t get these things out of my _head_.”

“Iza,” taking a cautious step forward, Anakin froze when she turned and fixed him with quite possibly the saddest look he’d ever seen her wear. The feelings coming off of her were confusing; a mixture of hate, pain, and that same fear he’d felt when she was in the tank. There was something deeper there, too. Something much darker that he wasn’t sure he was supposed to touch. Moving closer again, he offered a hand to her. “Iza, let me help,”

“When was the last time you felt afraid, Anakin?”

The question hit him like a blaster bolt to the chest. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to answer that. Not truthfully, anyway.

“Do you even remember what fear feels like?” Iza’s features seemed to harden more and more by the second. “Do you know what it _tastes_ like, Anakin?”

“Of course,” being honest felt like the only way to get her to calm down. The air between them was growing incredibly warm and that familiar smell of smoke had begun to waft into his nose. Part of him hoped there was just a fire somewhere in the city. “Of course I know, Iza.”

“I can’t get it out of my fucking mouth.” Her smile was almost venomous, brief as it was. “Kix tells me it’ll go away. He says it’ll all stop because it always stops for _them_.” Throwing her hands up she let out a laugh that sounded almost hysterical. “I’m not a fucking _Clone_ , Anakin. My brain doesn’t _do_ the things their brains do.”

“No it doesn’t,” he shook his head as he said it, daring to step even closer until the warmth she exuded felt like it would burn his skin if he moved in any further. “Iza, we’re not meant to just move on from those things like they are.”

“It’s changing me, Ani,” there was that weak little girl voice of hers again; the one that suckerpunched him hard enough to reach his soul. “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

He reached out, then. With no hesitation at all, he reached both hands out against the blistering heat and cupped her face in his hands, surprised when she closed the space between them and huddled against him. For the first time, he felt her surrender completely to his touch and it shocked him so much that it took him a moment before he could wrap his arms around her. Her desperate fingers grasped at his leather tabard, and he could feel her bury her face deep in the center of his chest to muffle the soft sobs that made her shoulders shake. Anakin didn’t know what to do; the sensation of heat was so thick and suffocating that it made it hard for him to concentrate, but he couldn’t just shove her off and ask for a minute to contemplate. His hands were already moving to their own accord as one tunneled deep into her hair and the other clutched her to him like it might help him find some sort of solution to this problem.

All it did was put more confusing thoughts into his head and stir something in his chest that he’d been dreading. It hurt so much to listen to her cry like this, like someone was slashing at his heartstrings with a vibroblade. He was vaguely aware of how tight his fingers had curled around her hair as he tried desperately to get his mind to clear, and he only looked down when he felt the distinct drag of nails against the leather draped across his back. Through the tears and indescribable hurt on her face, Iza was staring at him with something _else_ shining in those pretty eyes of hers. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that her reaction to the inadvertent tug to her hair was more primal than anything else.

“Ani,” _shit_. He’d never heard that kind of rasp in her voice before.

“I’m sorry,” loosening his hold on her hair, he found himself even more startled when she cranked herself up onto her toes and pressed her chest flush against his. _Okay_. Maybe his assumption hadn’t been too far off. But this wasn’t the solution he’d been looking for. It was just a distraction; it wouldn’t help her in the long run and it certainly wouldn’t bode well for either of them if—

“ _Again_ ,”

 _Fuck_ , she needed to stop that. She needed to stop using that tone and she needed to stop pressing up on him like that. He had to think about Padme. He had to think about the fact that Catcher would rip him limb from limb if he even suspected something funny.

“Anakin,” delicate fingers traced along the side of his neck and over his jaw, stroking slow and making him want to purr like a fucking Tooka. She just kept pushing herself closer and surrounding him with that soft smell of malreaux that always followed her and made his head spin.

“Iza,” he wasn’t sure when his breathing had picked up like this, and he wasn’t sure when he’d leaned in so she wouldn’t have to strain herself so much. Tiny little thing that she was, she had to stretch so far to reach him. “I don’t know…”

He wanted to be the voice of reason and remind her that they both had people at home that would be so very upset if they stirred this pot. Anakin wasn’t even sure if this was _okay_. The thick heat and the smell of smoke had dissipated but the emotions she emitted were just as confusing for him. She _hated_ him, didn’t she? She’d tried to fucking _kill_ him the last time he saw her and she’d been pretty fucking insistent about not wanting him anywhere near her.

So why had she sought him out at her weakest moment? Why wasn’t she somewhere with Catcher trying to figure out how to fix what was wrong with her? Aside from the obvious answer that the Clones wouldn’t be able to help with her symptoms— _why him?_

The tilt of her head against his fingers pulled him out of his thoughts and Anakin focused his eyes on her face again, still unsure. The longer he stared down into her eyes, the more he felt himself starting to lose control on his resistance. Slowly, his fingers twisted around the soft locks of hair and he bit down on his tongue before giving a tug from the roots. The sound she made in response sent a pulse of heat straight to his pelvis and Anakin knew he was done for. A second tug—rougher than the last—caused Iza to drop her head back with the movement and dig her fingers into his shoulders. The look of absolute delight on her face turned him feral and Anakin couldn’t help himself as he continued to tug, lightly running the fingers of his cybernetic hand down the taut skin of her throat.

“Anakin,” her nails scratched noisily down the front of his tabard and he had to fight to keep from pulling harder. He didn’t know when she’d shifted her stance, but a small smirk lifted the corner of his lips when he realized she’d pressed up against his thigh. “Anakin, _please_ ,”

“What do you want?” _Damn_ , he needed to clear his throat. “What do you want, Iza?”

Gnashing her teeth, she shot him such an irritated look that Anakin was momentarily worried that she was about to shove him off. Instead, she hooked her fingers in his belt and hauled him closer, turning her head and _biting_ at his wrist. That was all the incentive he needed to grab hold of her jaw and dip his head, sealing his lips over hers in a harsh kiss that left his mouth tingling. _Force_ , he couldn’t get enough of that sweet little sound she made whenever he grabbed at her the right way; out of curiosity, he slid his fingers from her jaw to the delicate column of her neck and was rewarded with a gasp and a twist of her hips that rocked her right up against the steadily growing erection in his trousers.

“ _Harder_ ,” she hissed against his lips, pressing forward into his hand until he felt her pulse beating against his palm.

“You sure?” Leaning back to look at her, he smiled lazily and gave the tiniest of squeezes, blue eyes blazing at the way she melted against him and started to nod.

“Please,”

He’d give her whatever the hell she wanted if she kept begging like that. Shifting the placement of his fingers, he wet his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and pressed harder, groaning low when she rubbed on him again. _Fuck_ —hadn’t he had this fantasy before? When he’d learned of the way she liked to be roughed up, he distinctly remembered being plagued by the desire to be the one to do it. It’d left him feeling strangely guilty for wanting to put his hands on her like this, but now he understood the thrill. Easing up the hold he had on her Anakin tried not to laugh at the way she whined at him, and leaned in to kiss her again.

“We’re _exposed_ out here, Iza,” that wasn’t going to stop him from dragging a hand down her body to grab a good palmful of her ass and pull her tighter against his pelvis. “We should go inside.”

“Inside _where?_ ”

“Take your pick,” gesturing to the array of abandoned buildings that surrounded them, he grinned when she scowled at him and fisted her hand in his robes to drag him toward the closest one. It was dark and smelled terrible inside, but neither of them seemed to care. As soon as the door closed behind them, Iza shoved him back against the wall and pointed a finger at him.

“No bruises, no bitemarks, no hickies,” loosening the belt at her waist, she growled when Anakin reached out and snatched her hands away and yanked her so she crashed against his chest.

“No promises,” smiling at her cheekily, he smoothed his palms down her back to her ass once more, rocking his hips forward with a soft growl. “Take it or leave it, babe.”

“None of that,” still waving her finger at him, Iza shouldn’t have been surprised when he dipped his head and nipped at it. _Fuck_ , what was she getting herself into? A distraction; she was getting herself into a much needed distraction that Catcher couldn’t provide. “ _Anakin_ ,”

“No pet names. Got it.” Lowering his head, he teased her with a soft brush of his lips against hers, lightly running the point of his tongue along her bottom lip for a quick taste. He snickered quietly at the way she squirmed and whined, pulling away with a grin when she tried to close the space between them.

“ _Anakin!_ ”

“Yes?” It was hard not to be smug when he could see how worked up she was getting over such tiny gestures. Clearly, she’d never been properly taunted before. Well—he’d have to change that, wouldn’t he? Humming to himself as he glanced around the room, the taller man bent at the knee to scoop Iza off her feet and dropped her onto a nearby table. The thing was coated with about eighty layers of dust, but he wasn’t too concerned as he gave a light smack to her knees so he could stand between them. She’d started uttering some sort of protest—he’d stopped listening, honestly; he’d keep his ears open for the word _no_ , but that was it—when he lifted her chin and leaned in to drag his tongue along the fresh tattoo on her neck. He grinned at the way she shivered and pressed closer, sneaking a hand up between her thighs as he made a second pass over the bright design on her skin. Pressing his fingers against her, he rubbed slowly and hissed when Iza’s fingers found his hair and _pulled_.

“Careful there,” he warned, grazing his teeth against the damp skin of her throat. “If you don’t want to be marked up, I suggest you be _gentle_ with me, Iza,”

Oh— _fuck it_.

Letting out a soft laugh that gusted against Anakin’s ear, Iza twisted the caramel colored strands around her fingers and pulled until he growled against her throat. The sharp sensation of his teeth followed and the brunette let out a tiny cry in response. This was _wrong_. This was so fucking _wrong_ for her to do to Catcher. It was wrong for Anakin to do it to Padme. They were such horrible people for this, really. But as the younger man continued to bite his way down the side of her neck and rubbed his fingers harder against her, Iza felt her ability to give a shit growing fainter and fainter. She could feel guilty about it later—or not. She’d never admit it in a billion years, but she never once felt guilty for the kiss that she’d shared with Anakin aboard the ship oh so many months before. As surprising as it’d been to receive it, a part of her had definitely enjoyed it and she was sure it was that part of her that’d kept it a secret from Catcher for so damn long.

“Where the _fuck_ is the seam?” Anakin had given up on feeling her up through the lower half of her blacks and was smoothing his hand along her belly, trying to find the spot where the undersuit split.

“Here,” giving him a nudge to push him back, Iza worked her belt free with shaking fingers and shrugged out of the robe she wore, bringing Anakin’s hand up to the faint line his fingers had been unable to find. Grinning at him a little, she shrugged. “Men’s suit. Waist is higher.”

“Good to know,” Tucking his fingertips beneath the tight-fitting material, Anakin seemed to mull something over for a moment before pulling the upper half of the suit over her tits to free them.

Propping herself back on her hands, Iza bit down on her bottom lip and found it hard to look him in the eye as he looked her over and then flicked his blue gaze up to her face.

“Oh, _that’s_ cute.” When he leaned in, she half expected him to try and kiss her. Instead, he used his teeth to give a tug to one of her nipples, moving to the other with a quiet snicker. “Getting shy on me now?”

“No,” Iza barely had time to take a breath before he was drawing one of the sensitive peaks into his mouth, tongue dancing skillfully around it in between strong pulls of his lips. “ _Force_ , Anakin…”

He thought about making some cheeky comment about her husband not engaging in proper foreplay, but decided it was probably best not to do that. He wasn’t looking to get punched in the face, after all. Letting go with a wet _pop_ , he nipped his way across her chest and teased his tongue around the second little peak until she was squirming on the table.

“Iza?” Looking up at her through the hair that had fallen in his eyes, he raised a brow and shifted closer to press himself against her. _Fuck_ , it felt good to get some pressure on his erection and relieve some of the ache. His hands settled on her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table, making it easier for him to rock into her.

“Huh?” Had she parted her knees further or had Anakin done it for her?

“Tell me something,” his mouth found her throat again, trailing biting kisses along her banging pulse as he continued to rut against her.

“ _What?_ ”

“Do you still hate me?” Both hands skimmed up along her torso to cup her tits, squeezing them gently while his thumbs ran in slow circles around their tips. “Be honest,”

The laugh she gave was breathless and cut in half by a moan when he pressed his hips forward and ground into her just enough to make her head spin. How the _hell_ was she supposed to answer that? Did he piss her off— _yes._ Did looking at him make her sick— _yes_. Did his very presence make her skin crawl sometimes— _yes_.

But did she _hate_ him?

“I never…” shaking her head, Iza whined when the familiar gloved grip of his cybernetic hand closed against her jaw and steadied her gaze with his. _Force_ , did he know how intimidating that was? There was such a difference in the touch of each of his hands and this one— _this one_ felt like it held the power to crush anything it touched. It was terrifying and arousing at the same time and she shifted on the table with another whine before answering, “I never _hated_ you, Ani.”

Studying her for a long moment, Anakin seemed satisfied enough to lean in and reward her with a kiss so devastatingly soft and tender that it made her belly ache. _No_. This wasn’t the deal. She didn’t want his feelings; she didn’t want more confusion in her head. It didn’t matter how sweet his kiss tasted, Iza wasn’t here for _sweetness_. Growling into his mouth, she brought her hands up to find the catches of his belt and get it undone, teeth unforgiving as they sank into his bottom lip and surprised him. With the layers of his robes loosened, she worked her hands underneath them until her fingers met hot flesh. Looking up at him through her lashes, she flashed a hot smile and slowly began tracing the strong lines of his abdomen, pulling her head back when he tried to kiss her again.

“ _Off_ ,”

Clearly he didn’t need to be told twice. Stepping back from her, Anakin peeled the layers of his robes off as quickly as he could until he was left in nothing but the trousers, and Iza felt her jaw go a little slack as she looked him over. _Well, **okay**._ She’d gotten a brief idea of what he might look like without the robes on but _damn_. Really though, he didn’t need to look so fucking smug when he caught her staring. The slight raise of his scarred eyebrow and the way he pressed the tip of his tongue to his bottom lip to keep from grinning—what a fucking pompous asshole he was. She took it all back. She hated him. She hated him so much. Mostly she hated him because just looking at him was making her body clench and ache in a way she hadn’t expected. _Force_ , he was beautiful to look at though.

“You okay?” He teased finally, propping his hands on his hips as the grin he’d been suppressing made its way onto his lips. “You’re looking a little flushed.”

“Fine. Come here.” Reaching for him again, Iza hooked her fingers in the waist of his trousers and pulled him to her, sliding her hands up along his torso. Taking a page out of his book, she leaned in and pressed kisses along his chest that quickly turned into sharp bites and eventually teasing drags of her tongue over his flat nipples. Nudging him back a little, she trailed her mouth lower down his abdomen, dipping her tongue in the carved lines of muscle until she could hear his breathing picking up above her. She took her time working her way across his pelvis from one hip to the other, looking up when he threaded a hand into her hair. “You okay?” She wasn’t going to bother hiding the grin. “You’re looking _flushed_.”

“Oh, you’re a fucking—”

“ _Be quiet_ ,” sinking her teeth into the skin below his navel, Iza shot him a look of warning and trailed her hands along his thighs, deliberately avoiding the erection tenting his trousers. Leaning away from him, she pulled the top half of her blacks off the rest of the way and set it aside, propping herself on her hands again. Eyeing him, the brunette shrugged a little and raised an eyebrow. “ _Well?_ ”

“Well what?” His head was so fuzzy that he had no damn idea what the hell she wanted. He’d figured she’d just _tell_ him after a certain point with the way she’d started to behave.

“Are you going to show me or not?”

“Just show you?”

“ _Anakin_ ,” tilting her head, Iza brought one of her hands up to lightly brush her fingers over the bulge at the front of his trousers—honestly, the look on his face was fucking _priceless_ —and slowly started to add a little more pressure with each pass. She let out a startled gasp when he snatched her hand, eyes going wide when he tucked it down the front of his pants and settled it directly over his cock. There was no playfulness in his eyes anymore as he rested the fingers of his free hand beneath her chin again and leaned in for a hard kiss, his hips pressing forward to tempt her into touching him. Honestly, she didn’t need _that_ much goading. As her tongue skimmed over his inside of his mouth, her trembling fingers trailed along the length of hard flesh from base to tip, eliciting the kind of growl from him that made her whole body burn.

His lips felt like they might bruise her skin as they dragged down her jaw to the untouched side of her neck, his breathing hot and harsh in between muffled words of encouragement of how he wanted her to touch him. _His_ hands had started grabbing at her again, squeezing at whatever parts were the softest and easiest to hold onto. She _tried_ to be gentle about the way she squeezed her fingers around him, but it was difficult to be mindful when he kept biting at her and pulling on her like he was. And when he slipped his hand down beneath the snug-fitting waistband of her blacks and _moaned_ in her ear about how hot she was, Iza had a hard time focusing on being gentle. He really didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the tighter grip of her fingers more than the lighter passes of her palm along his length.

Their teeth collided more than once in their haste to get at each other’s mouths, and the kisses never lasted long enough to satisfy either of them. Their breathing was just too damn heavy to allow it. Iza didn’t mind much; she was so damn lost in how Anakin’s fingers felt pressed inside of her that _kissing_ him soon became the last thing on her mind.

“ _Force_ ,” he sounded so damn frustrated when he pulled back from her and took his body heat with him. Iza might not have minded so much if he hadn’t withdrawn his hand from her pants and smacked her hand away from his cock. Picking her head up to stare at him as if he was fucking crazy, she opened her mouth to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing and let out a soft cry when he grabbed the waist of her blacks and ripped them down her thighs. His trousers fell next and she had about five seconds to get a good look at him before she was being hauled from the table and set on her feet with her back pressed to his chest.

“Ana—”

“ _Quiet_ ,” she wasn’t sure if it was the sound his hand made when it smacked her ass that startled her into silence, or the sting itself. Either way, she closed her mouth and planted her palms against the filthy table when he pushed a hand between her shoulders to lean her over the surface. He kicked her ankles lightly to get her to spread her feet as far apart as she could get them with the material of her undersuit still trapped at her knees, and Iza had to bury her face against her forearm when he pressed up against her and drove himself to the hilt in one hard thrust of his hips.

 _Holy_ —

The heat of his chest pressed against her back and pushed her further into the table’s surface, his hands sliding along her arms to gather her wrists together in front of her and anchoring them there. He hadn’t started moving yet but Iza had a horrible feeling she wouldn’t last very long when he did.

“You okay?” His voice was strained, like he hadn’t wanted to ask at all.

“Uh huh,” swallowing the dryness in her throat, she nodded as much as she could and settled her cheek against the table, pushing herself up on her toes and giving a small wiggle of her hips. “ _Anakin, please_ ,”

A kiss was placed to her shoulder before he drew his hips back and all but slammed back into her. Once, twice, three times before he fell into a rhythm that was rough and steady; drawing soft cries from her throat each time he buried himself into her completely. Iza couldn’t help the way she strained against the hold he had on her wrists, pulling and pushing against the strength of the prosthetic limb even though she knew it wouldn’t do her any good. Her actions weren’t in protest—the way she called out to him and arched her hips back could attest to that—but a byproduct of being filled with such pleasure that her body just didn’t know what to do with itself.

“ _Fuck, Iza_ ,” his rough voice was right in her ear, teeth occasionally giving tugs to the outer edge or sinking into her shoulder whenever she tightened on him. The wild growl that sounded in her ear quite suddenly startled her out of the haze she was in and Iza yelped a little when Anakin gathered her up from the table and stood her upright. Turning to park his ass against the edge of the table, he kept one arm wrapped quite possessively around her middle while the other smoothed up along her throat. His hips were just as ruthless as ever and she could practically _hear_ him grinning through the heavy panting when she reached up and pawed at the gloved hand resting against her neck.

“Anakin,” _fuck_ , she was close. She was so close and he wasn’t squeezing hard enough. She could feel the bunch of his muscles against her back with every thrust he put into her, every harsh huff of breath as it was expelled from his lungs into her ear. He had to be there, too. The hand gripping her torso so tightly was shaking; funny, considering how steady the one wrapped around her throat was.

“Say it,” his voice sent a chill down her back that pooled low in her pelvis with the rest of the heat burning there. “Tell me how much you fucking hate me, Iza.”

 _Oh_ —that’s what he wanted. _Okay_.

“I _hate_ you,” she hissed, almost smiling when she felt his fingers twitch against her neck. “You make me so _fucking sick_ , Skywalker.”

The nails of his biological hand dragged down over the sweat-slick surface of Iza’s belly, tucking between her thighs to rub at her clit as he fucked himself into her harder. The hand around her neck tightened _just enough_ to elicit one of those sweet little gasps, followed by a heavy cry as she arched in his arms and settled her head against his. Pressing his face against her neck as the heavy pressure that had steadily been building in his lower back surged forward into his pelvis, Anakin bit down on the swell of her shoulder to muffle the snarl that left his throat. Turning again, he pushed her back to the table in an unforgiving manner, grabbing hold of her hip with damp fingers and bracing himself above her with his gloved hand flat against the surface as he shoved into her harder and deeper until he was completely spent. As he settled against her back, panting and swearing, he was vaguely aware of the way she whined beneath him. Unwilling to lose the intimate connection just yet, he carefully slipped an arm beneath her and lifted her so he could crawl onto the table and lay on his side with her.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked when he’d managed to get enough air into his lungs.

“Yeah,” twisting to look at him, Iza eyed him a little and beckoned him closer to lure him in for a deep kiss. “ _Thank you_.”

“For hurting you?” he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or not.

“You don’t understand,” _Shit_ , she was dizzy. “It’s a good pain.”

Well—he supposed he could understand that. Offering a faint smile, he trailed his hand down her side and took note of the way her whole body seemed to be shaking. He _really_ had to fight off the urge to grin then, knowing it’d only earn him one of those bitter looks of hers.

“Fuck,” rubbing her hands over her face, Iza sounded distressed and Anakin didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He only brushed the hair away from the back of her neck and planted a few kisses there, hoping she wouldn’t smack him away.

“Come back to the Temple with me. Just for a little while.” He found it difficult not to touch her, to not want to soothe the sudden rush of anxiety he felt punching through the blissful fog swirling around them. “I’ll get you cleaned up and we’ll talk to Obi-Wan about your… problem.”

“But…”

“Listen to me,” gingerly turning her head so she’d look at him, Anakin felt a tiny pang of guilt when he saw how swollen her lips were. There were visible bite marks all down the side of her jaw and he just knew there were others scattered along her skin. “You’re welcome there no matter what you may think. You don’t have to stay long. Just… enough to fix…” he motioned to the damage he’d done. “And long enough to talk to Obi-Wan. He can help you better than I can.”

“Do I have to fuck him, too?” She smiled cheekily at him and laughed when he ducked his head shamefully. “ _Anakin_ , I’m teasing.”

“I know,” _Force_ , he had to keep kissing her, if only to keep _that_ thought out of his head. Something in his head kept telling him he needed to drink in as much of her as he could before he never got the chance to do this again. Thankfully, she seemed to be willing to comply, opening up to him and returning his kisses with as much enthusiasm as he gave. He knew he’d overstayed the welcome when she pulled back and gave a pained sort of smile before turning away from him again. “Iza—”

“Anakin, don’t,” taking a breath, she shifted on the table and settled back against his chest. “ _Don’t_.”

Right. That ever-growing sense of anxiety building in the room reminded him that this was _not_ a permanent situation and never would be. He had Padme and she had Catcher and they were all _happy_. This was just something that they’d needed to get out of their systems. That’s all.

“You’re still inside me, Anakin,” she sounded embarrassed when she said it. “I can’t get up.”

“Can we just…” tentatively, he slipped his arm around her again and rested his chin against her shoulder, bracing himself for a slap. What he got was a heavy sigh and a wave of cold panic that hit him square in the chest. But Iza didn’t try to pull away or shove him off.

“Okay,” nodding a little, she tilted her head against his and relaxed against him. “But only for a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” brushing his lips against her tattooed neck, he buried his face there and held her to him tightly. He knew good and well that he wasn’t going to be able to keep her. He didn’t even know if he truly wanted to. But _right now_ —she was his. And even when the marks were all gone, he’d still remember where he’d placed them. He’d remember how sweet she sounded when she said his name, and the way her frantic breath tasted in his mouth. Anakin wouldn’t forget any part of what had happened here, even if Iza decided she wanted to erase it all from her memory. The tentative brush of soft fingers along his forearm made him smile against her neck and pull her even closer.

Yeah—he didn’t think she’d forget about it any time soon, either.


	18. The Drug in Me is You

Iza had never seen disappointment quite like the kind reflected in Master Obi-Wan’s eyes when she and Anakin slipped into the Temple a while later. Even Master Windu couldn’t hold a candle to the stare she was getting from the older man as she trailed behind Anakin and tried to hide the evidence of their shameful deed from view. It didn’t help that the bitemarks on her jaw had already started to bruise and that they were both covered in dust and grime from the abandoned building. She knew that the older Jedi knew what had transpired between them. The guilt on her face would give it away even if the lingering scent of sweat and sex had not. But he didn’t say a single word as Anakin led her past him towards the baths, gesturing for her to go ahead of him and giving her a few bacta patches from the pouch at his hip for when she was through to help with the healing process. _Great_ ; because she wanted to reek of pineapple again.

As soon as she was gone, Anakin knew that he was going to get an earful. He’d braced himself for it and when he turned to Obi-Wan, he was met with that same hard look that the man had given to Iza and he shot an expectant look back at his Master.

“Something you’d like to say, Master?”

“What have you done, Anakin?” Obi-Wan spoke softly, pulling the other man further down the hall so they could have a little more privacy. “ _What have you done?_ ”

“I find it offensive that you think I’m the only one to blame, Master,” frowning, Anakin folded his arms over his chest. “It takes two to make a decision like that, you know.”

“She’s _married_ , Anakin,”

“I’m aware.”

“Please tell me you did not take advantage of her weakened psychological state,” Obi-Wan sounded desperate now, his blue eyes searching those of his apprentice for the answer he wasn’t sure the younger man would give truthfully. “We have been monitoring her. Master Windu has been keeping—”

“Why am _I_ immediately to blame?!” Anakin didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he couldn’t help it. “Because I gave her what she asked for? What she _begged_ for, Master?”

“ _Anakin_ ,” motioning for the younger Jedi to lower his voice, Obi-Wan set his jaw and moved to steer Anakin into a vacant meditation room. Once the door had slid shut behind them, he dropped his hand away from his apprentice’s shoulders and tried to get him to meet his gaze again. “I am not trying to place blame on you. I just want an answer.”

“We had sex.” The taller man spat it out like saying the words aloud might poison him. “I don’t see how—”

“My dear friend, listen to me,” raising his hands defensively, Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Master Windu has been sensing some very _troubling_ things from Lady Tacor as of late. I am not shaming you. Either of you. But you must understand that she is _extremely_ unstable.”

“What does that have to do with _anything_ we’ve done?”

Studying the other man for a long time, Obi-Wan frowned harder.

“She is not in her own mind, Anakin. Surely you felt that. With a connection as intimate as the one you’ve shared— _surely_ you noticed.”

Anakin didn’t know how to answer that. He’d noticed that she’d felt _different_ when they’d first met up, but he’d been so stuck in his lust for her that he hadn’t taken the time to really search for anything out of place. He’d been a little distracted, after all.

“Anakin?”

“She said she… she said there were things in her head.” Why did he feel like he was betraying Iza by telling this to Obi-Wan? “She said she couldn’t get them out.”

“What kind of things, Anakin?” Concern worried Obi-Wan’s handsome face.

“She didn’t say.” Anakin had to speak to the floor. Talking directly to his Master would only make him feel guiltier. “She’s… clouded. Afraid.” He felt something pinch in his throat as Iza’s words echoed in his head and rolled off his tongue. “It’s changing her. She doesn’t feel like herself.”

“And?”

“That’s all.” The younger Jedi shook his head and gave a wave of his hand. He couldn’t go on to tell Obi-Wan that he’d been unable to get much more out of her than that before they’d practically attacked one another.

“How did she feel?”

“ _Excuse me?!_ ”

“You misunderstand,” a light flush colored the tops of Obi-Wan’s cheeks and he had to look elsewhere in the room in order to collect himself. “I meant her emotions, Anakin.”

Looking at the other man like he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to say, Anakin turned a hand up and shrugged.

“I…” running his fingers through his hair, he tried to think back to whether or not he’d felt anything strange from Iza while they’d been intimate. It felt disgusting to have to pick it all apart like this; couldn’t he just keep this for himself? Why did he have to share it with Obi-Wan? And why did he have to dig so deep for hidden clues to things? This was absurd. It was no one’s business how Iza was feeling when they were together. “Normal. I… guess.”

Obi-Wan looked as though he didn’t quite believe that but didn’t know how else to probe for an answer. Letting out a quiet sigh, the older man just nodded and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Very well,”

“You have to help her, Master,” turning pleading eyes to his friend, Anakin gestured towards the door. “The Clones can’t help her with what she’s going through. They don’t understand. Please, there has to be something you can do?”

“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on, Anakin.”

“The ship. I think the crash is haunting her. I think she’s worse off than I’ve been led to believe.”

Obi-Wan’s brow went up high on his head and he made a face like he was silently putting together pieces in his head. It did seem to line up with the things Master Windu had told him, and it would account for the very impulsive decision she’d made to sleep with Anakin. It might also explain the odd heaviness that had been in the air as of late; something that had been of light talk around the Temple between a few of the Masters. He was surprised that Anakin hadn’t brought it up to him, but then again—he wasn’t sure if Anakin had noticed it at all.

“Master?”

“I’m not sure… if there’s anything I can do. But Master Windu—”

“She’ll refuse,” Anakin shook his head. “She doesn’t want to see him.”

“I’m sorry Anakin. I’m afraid that I don’t know any other way. He shares a Bond with her that I do not. He’s the only one who can calm her mind.”

“I can forge—”

“ _Absolutely not._ ” Pointing a finger at the younger man, Obi-Wan gave him a hard look and took a step forward as if to drive home the order. “You’ve done your fair share, Anakin. You cannot Bond yourself with her. You do not have the skill nor the power required to do such a thing.”

“What about stasis?” Anakin looked very much like he wanted to deck his Master in the mouth, and for a moment Obi-Wan supposed he couldn’t blame him. He knew how Anakin felt about having his abilities called into question. “How safe would that be for her?”

“You’ll need to ask Master Windu.”

“I suppose I’ll just let her heal up in my bedroom and then let her go back to the base, then.”

“ _Anakin_ ,” shutting his eyes with a frustrated huff, Obi-Wan pressed the tip of his tongue between his lips and tried to stem his anger from rising to the surface. “You _must_ let Master Windu see her. This may be the only thing that keeps her from a Fall.”

“Am I interrupting?” Iza’s voice wafted in from the doorway and both men turned to find her standing there with her wet hair sticking to her cheeks and a very irritated look on her face. Green eyes shifted from Obi-Wan to Anakin and her expression became very _hurt_ , making the younger man’s face crumble.

“Iza,” taking a step toward her, he stopped when she held a hand up, waiting for the blast of Force energy that never came.

“ _You_ can’t help me, Master Obi-Wan?” She asked, looking back at the other Jedi.

“I’m not sure,” he answered tentatively, offering a hand to her. “If you would like to speak privately, I can arrange that. I can see what I can do for you.”

“ _Out._ ”

Flinching, Anakin looked her over a few times and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. A quick look from her had him shutting it again and he huffed before stalking out of the room, raising an eyebrow when she twisted to avoid touching him on her way in. Okay, _fine_. Maybe she’d heard him talking to Obi-Wan and was upset that he’d said anything at all. He supposed she had a right to be mad at him. But she wouldn’t even look at him when he passed and that was what bothered him the most. So they were already back to that, huh? Fifteen minutes in a shower and she’d already rolled herself back into the old routine of pretending that he made her sick. _Fine_.

When the door closed, Anakin rubbed his hands over his face and grumbled at the scrape of dirt rubbing across his skin. He really needed to clean up. Deciding that it was better than sitting around and waiting while the two of them talked, he cast one more look at the door and headed off for the baths.

~*~*~*~

“ _I_ _won’t!_ ” Iza’s terrified voice echoed through the halls of the Temple as she stormed away from Obi-Wan, the man hot on her heels.

“Iza, it’s the only way I know to help you,” he tried to reason, side-stepping a pillar when she took a sharp turn.

“No,” shaking her head, she flexed her fingers at her side and searched frantically for the exit she knew was nearby. Why did this place cloud her head so much? How had she forgotten the layout so quickly? It had only been a few months. “I…”

“I can feel you struggling, my dear,” reaching out to take hold of her arm, Obi-Wan was extremely grateful that she didn’t immediately turn and try to shove him off or strike him. “You need your Master’s guidance, young one.”

“He’s not…” shutting her eyes, Iza pressed her fingers to her forehead and shook her head, trying to pull away from him. “I’m _not_ …”

“You are still vulnerable to your fear,” he released her so she wouldn’t fight against him and make herself worse. “You must remain mindful of yourself.”

“I don’t need…” gritting her teeth, the brunette backed away from him and tried to run for the exit.

“ _Wait!_ ”

She ignored him, picking up the pace of her steps. The door was just up ahead. She only had a few more feet. Just a few more—

Something tight closed around the core of her torso and jerked her to a stop, holding her in place even as she strained to reach for the door just beyond her fingertips. _She was so close!_ Booted feet dragged hard against the carpet in her effort to pull out of whatever bond held her back and Iza let out a frustrated yell when she couldn’t budge herself any closer. Twisting in the invisible hold, she looked back over her shoulder to see Master Windu with both hands held out in front of him and a determined look in his eye.

A boiling rage ignited in her gut almost instantly, shooting through her whole being and sending a blistering wave of heat rushing through the Temple’s hall. Her eyes felt like they were clouding over from the anger as her fingers began to shake and before she understood exactly what was happening to her, a hard body hit hers and knocked her to the floor.

“ _Get up_ ,” Anakin’s hands were unkind as they dragged her to her feet and hauled her toward the door while he blatantly ignored the shouts of the Jedi behind him. Budging the door open with a shove of his shoulders, he pushed her out and pointed. “ _GO! **Get out**!_”

Blinking to try and clear her vision, Iza could barely keep herself upright let alone get herself off of this compound. Hearing him snarl in frustration, she felt his hands grab hold of her again and tried not to drag her feet as he rushed her down the walkway, hauled her past the stairs and ran with her a good few blocks away from the Temple. The further away they got, the more the fog seemed to clear and by the time Anakin stopped to catch his breath, she was a little more aware of herself and her surroundings.

“What…?” looking over at him while taking in his wild eyes and his wet hair, Iza knit her brows in confusion. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know,” chest heaving, Anakin looked her over a few times like he was silently assessing whether or not she’d been hurt. “I felt you panic. I felt you panic and I just felt…” he held a hand up, unsure of the word he wanted to use. “… _hate_.”

“You should leave,” she felt so sick and weak and her legs were shaking as she tried to walk down the street. She was going to have to call one of the Stars to come pick her up. “Anakin, you shouldn’t be around me.”

“ _Sithspit_.” Putting a hand out to steady her, the younger man looked for somewhere to sit her down and steered her towards a bench.

“Anakin,” terrified tears welled in her eyes before Iza raked her fingers through her hair and gave the ends a savage tug. “Anakin, I think I just tried to kill Master Windu.”

“No,” shaking his head, he sat down beside her and rubbed his hands against her shoulders. She was shivering like she was cold, but her body felt like it was on fire. “Iza, you don’t have—”

“I’ve done it before.” She deadpanned, feeling her stomach roll at the confession. “I know what this feels like, Anakin.”

He couldn’t quite make sense of the confession at first. But when he tipped her chin up so she’d look at him and saw just how light her eyes had become— _he knew_.

“ _Iza_ ,” her name was a sad whisper on his lips and he grunted when she shoved her hands against his shoulders and got up to try and walk away from him. Looping his arms around her waist, he hauled her back onto his lap and grunted at the fists she pummeled against his chest. She wasn’t hitting him very hard, but it still hurt. “Get it out,” he murmured, wincing when she clipped his chin with her knuckles. “Go ahead, Iza.”

“ _Stop!_ ” Pounding both fists against his shoulders with a sob, she pushed at him and grabbed hold of his tabard to yank at it in frustration. “Anakin— _let me go!_ ”

“Not yet,” not while she was still riled up like this. He couldn’t let her loose in the city and he couldn’t let her go back to the base like this. There was too much at risk if he did that. “Get your anger out first.”

“I will fucking—”

“Hurt me.” He challenged, watching her head snap up to stare at him. “Do it. If that’s what it will take, just do it.”

Breathing harshly through her nose, she shook her head and tugged at his hold on her, almost yelling when he refused to let her go. _Fine_. If that was what he wanted, then she’d hurt him. Pulling back a fist, she swung out, fully intending to just keep hitting his chest and shoulders. But she’d caught sight of the way he stared at her with those stupid blue eyes of his, and she’d seen some sort of sad kind of adoration for her in them and Iza suddenly wasn’t satisfied with using his body as a punching sack anymore. The sound of his teeth crashing together when her knuckles struck his cheek was probably the most sickening sound she’d heard in a long time. His startled mouth let loose a spray of bloodied spittle that hit her in the face, and the moment she felt his hold on her loosen, Iza took off like a shot.

Dodging civilians on the walkpath, she took a detour down an alleyway in an attempt to lose him. She knew he wouldn’t be easily swayed by a single punch like that and the overwhelming feel of his presence coming up behind her had Iza reaching for the lightsaber clipped at her waist. Skidding to a halt near a dead end where the only way out was _up_ , she cussed under her breath and spun on her heel, igniting the blade and brandishing it in front of her.

“ _Don’t,_ ” something in her chest clenched at the sight of the blood running down his chin. She shouldn’t have hit him that hard. But he’d told her to. He _told_ her to hurt him. “Anakin, please don’t,”

He said nothing as he slowly strolled closer, unclipping the lightsaber from his belt.

“Is this what you want?” He asked, sparking the plasma blade to life. “Is this what you really want, Iza?”

“I told you to _let go!_ ” Holding the lightsaber up defensively, Iza stood her ground. “You should’ve just listened!”

“You know I can’t do that. Not while you’re—”

“It isn’t going to _change_ Anakin!” Blowing out a harsh breath, the brunette kept her eyes trained on him, waiting for him to pounce. She didn’t trust him not to make the first move. “I fucking _told_ you—I’m not the **same**. I’m _not!_ ”

“You didn’t even let them _try_ to help you!”

“They weren’t going to help me, Anakin,” her hand tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber as tears bubbled forth and spilled down her cheeks. “They don’t _help_ people like me, Anakin. They _kill_ them!”

His features hardened and he stared like he didn’t quite believe her.

“Master Obi-Wan would never have hurt you. He wouldn’t.”

“Maybe not,” it was hard to calculate how much Force energy she was going to have to call upon to propel herself up to the top of the building; maybe she could get to the halfway point and just climb the rest of the way up. “But Windu… Windu would.”

“He’s your Master, Iza.”

“That’s _exactly_ why he’d want me terminated. He trained me. He knows how dangerous I am,” if she picked just the right moment and found the right foothold, she could rocket herself to that third story ledge and go from there. She just needed to distract him long enough so he wouldn’t follow. “ _You know he knows what’s happening to me_.”

Anakin pressed his broken lips together tightly and he shut his eyes. The moment he started to shake his head in disbelief, Iza took her shot. Bending at the knee as far as she could, she shoved off of the pavement with a concentrated push that lifted her high into the air. Powering down her lightsaber before she grabbed hold of the skinny ledge protruding from the building, she had just enough time to clip it back to her belt and start climbing before Anakin realized what had happened. She could hear him shouting to her from below and had one of those sick feelings that he was going to keep following her until she either gave up or she _really_ put the hurt on him. Both options weren’t ideal. Pulling herself up onto the roof, Iza didn’t bother looking back as she started to run, fully intending to jump across as many rooftops as it took to put some space between them.

The sound of his boots hitting the surface behind her made her growl low in her throat and run faster, skidding on loose debris before planting her feet against the edge of the rooftop and taking the wide leap across to the next one. Anakin wasted no time following her and Iza let out a loud shout when he threw his arms around her waist and knocked her to the ground, kicking and flailing her arms in an attempt to hit him as many times as she could.

“ _Do you want me **dead**!?_” she screamed at him finally, grabbing him by the front of his robes to shake him. It was uncomfortable lying beneath him like this and she was slowly losing her grasp on the part of her that didn’t want to cause him harm. “Is that what you want, Anakin?”

“Of course not!” He couldn’t explain why he didn’t want to let her run away like this. Well— _he_ knew why he didn’t want to let her run away. But he didn’t think she’d understand if he told her; she certainly wouldn’t like the reason.

“Then _get off_.”

“Iza—”

 _Nope._ She was done with trying to be civil about this. Keeping a tight hold on his robes, Iza shifted her legs under him and sunk a knee into his gut, shoving him off when all of the air rushed out of him. Scrambling to her feet, she started to run off again when a familiar tightness wrapped itself around her throat and _squeezed_ , halting her in place but giving her just enough air to keep her from passing out.

“Stop… running…” Anakin wheezed, pushing himself up onto his knees. Keeping one hand stretched out, he felt horrible as he watched her claw at the invisible hand around her neck and only released her once he was able to fully get to his feet. Watching her whirl to face him, he half expected her to return the gesture with far more violent intentions behind it and was startled when she simply pulled her lips back over her teeth and charged him. Her shoulder drove deep into his chest and knocked him clear off his feet, sending him crashing onto his back with her on top of him.

The first punch hurt like hell and left him dazed and sore. The second landed somewhere near his shoulder and sent pain shooting up the side of his neck. The third never had a chance to land as he brought his gloved hand up to catch her fist and hold it tight enough to make her holler in both pain and frustration. Iza began to smack her palm against his chest then, doubling over as each swat got weaker and weaker and the tears streaking down her face choked her. Soon enough, she had her face planted in the same spot it’d been earlier in the day and she was clutching at his robes again, giving hard tugs as she screamed out her frustration into the material. The energy around her burned like fire and Anakin felt her anger like it was his own. He’d never known so much pain and fury could be balled up inside a tiny being like this. Bringing his other hand up, he gently cradled the back of her head and tried to comfort her, but Iza resisted, twisting against the hold and raising her free fist like she was going to use it to bash his face in.

But she only let it hover in the air as she stared down at him and seethed like a rabid animal, chest heaving as her dangerously lightened eyes seemed to glow in the shadow her hair cast around her face.

“Go ahead,” the grip he had on her other hand eased and fell away. “If this is what you need to do, _go ahead_.”

“Shut up!” she sputtered, her arm trembling from the tension in her muscles. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking _kill you_ , Skywalker!”

He let out an amused laugh and gave one of those stupid, smug smirks of his. The kind she always wanted to wipe right off his face. Reaching up, he carefully settled his hands against the sides of her face and slowly began to pull her in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He felt her jaw wobble and grunted when her fist thumped the already sore spot on his chest, but he only pulled away when the first sob gusted past his lips and she sagged into him, limp and tired.

“Stop running,” he whispered, sweeping his thumbs beneath her eyes to stop the flow of tears. “Stop running and let me help you.”

“You can’t,” she shook her head and shut her eyes to block him out. “You can’t fucking save me, Anakin.”

“Not if you don’t let me try.”

“I want us _out_.” She blurted, giving another hard tug to his robes. “Get us _out_ , Anakin.”

“I want to.” His bruised and broken lips brushed over her face, leaving behind the tiniest smears of blood in their wake. “You don’t know how much I want you to have your freedom.”

“I can’t take it,” her breathing slowed the longer he peppered her face with the gentle kisses, but she seemed to refuse to let him have her mouth again. “I’m so scared I’ll lose everything. I need him to live, Anakin.”

“I know.” Resting his forehead to hers, he trailed his fingers down the sides of her neck and stroked his thumbs along her jaw.

“ _Help me, Ani._ ” Iza’s whispered plea was warm against his lips and the tears that followed burned his sore face. “If you love me— _help me_.”

“Will you say it?” He asked quietly, watching her open her eyes and look at him. He felt a bit of the heaviness lift from his chest to see that the golden hue had started to wane. _Thank the Force_. “You don’t have to mean it. Just say it.”

The shivery intake of breath that followed made him want to hold her closer, but he worried that it might drive her to attack him again. Shutting his eyes when she surged forward and pressed a deep, tender kiss to his aching mouth, he let himself get lost in the taste of her before she pulled back and whispered,

“ _I love you_.”

~*~*~*~

“What the _fuck,_ ” Catcher felt sick when Iza stumbled into the barracks much later that night sporting bruises that definitely hadn’t been there earlier that day. Getting up from his bunk, he met her about halfway across the room and carefully palmed her cheek, jerking when she threw herself into his arms and clawed her nails down his back. “ _Little Bit?_ ”

“They tried to…” she couldn’t get a good grip on his blacks, and she’d started shaking violently as her knees weakened and she sagged into him. “ _Catcher_ ,”

“Sweetheart,” scooping her off her feet, he carried her over to the bunk and sat her in his lap, trying to take in all of the bruises and the blood smeared across her face. Her robe was torn in several places and was _filthy_ ; her blacks looking worse for wear as well. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good at all. “Little Bit, you need to tell me—”

“The Jedi,” bringing weary green eyes up to meet his, she rested her swollen cheek against his shoulder and swallowed hard. “I’m not safe. Catch, _I’m_ _not safe_.”

 _The Jedi_. Her own people had done this to her? She’d gone to them for help and they’d done _this_?

“Skywalker?” The kid’s name rolled off his tongue in a low growl. If the little bastard had anything to do with it, he was going to find him and skin him alive. For all that he preached about wanting to keep Iza safe, he’d _better not_ have had a hand in this.

“Got me out.” She shook her head, pawing at Catcher’s chest as she tried to snuggle closer to him. “We… we need to leave, Catcher.”

Gritting his teeth, everything in him screamed to argue. He couldn’t abandon the Army. This was his life, his _purpose_ in life. He couldn’t just uproot and desert his post. But his wife was his entire fucking world and he would give his own life to protect her. If that meant giving this up…

“How?” He asked, swallowing the anger that was welling in his chest. “How are we going to leave?”

“We have help,” closing her eyes when he pressed his lips to her forehead, Iza wanted to cry. Her misdeeds of the day had all come flooding back at once and she suddenly felt the guilt tearing into her gut. She wanted to tell him; it was so unfair to lie. But she’d sworn not to. In trade for the well-deserved beating to make everything look authentic, she’d sworn to keep their infidelity a secret for the rest of her life. It wasn’t a fair trade and Anakin had objected at first, but when she insisted it was the only way—he obliged. “We can leave tonight.”

“But the Stars,” Catcher didn’t want to leave them behind and he had a distinct feeling that Iza didn’t either.

“They’re coming, too.” She’d already seen them out on the tarmac. They’d needed no persuasion.

“You sound like you have a plan, Little Bit,” brushing frazzled bits of hair out of her eyes, Catcher pressed another kiss to her forehead.

“I might.”

“Why do I feel like Skywalker is involved?”

“Because it was his idea.” Turning up a hand, she shrugged and winced. The jerk had hit her a little too hard and she had a feeling that some of these bruises were going to take a while to heal up. Especially since she was so sick of the smell of bacta that she just didn’t want to use it anymore. “Rex is going to get us out. He’s already agreed.”

This surprised him. It shouldn’t have, really, but Catcher found himself staring with his brows raised high on his forehead anyway.

“When?”

“Whenever we can get our things together.” Gesturing to the bunks, she snorted. “We don’t have much, so… soon?”

“I really think you should rest, Little Bit,” Catcher knew she’d argue but he didn’t care. “At least let me get your things together.”

Letting out a laugh, she leaned up and kissed him sweetly, finding that she couldn’t quite help herself as she pressed even closer and deepened the kiss like she was trying to fill her mouth with the taste of him. In truth, she _was_. She’d long since washed away the taste of Anakin from her lips, but she swore there were still hints of that smoky flavor on her tongue. The groan she pulled from her husband reverberated through her chest and she smiled against his lips before pulling back and gently brushing the end of her nose over his.

“ _Maker_ , Little Bit,” he breathed, huffing a little. “Don’t… _do that_ right now.”

Snickering at him, she kissed his chin and rested her head against his.

“I’m sorry,” she wasn’t; she wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “But I needed it.”

“I’ll give you as much as you want as soon as you’re in better shape,” he promised, brushing his fingertips along the tattoo on her neck. “For now, please just rest. For me.”

“Say it first,” her teeth playfully nipped his chin and she got an irritated growl in return.

“You’re a brat,”

“ _Catcher_ ,”

“I have you.” Cuddling her closer, he shifted on the bed to lay her down, giving her another gentle kiss. “You’re safe, and I love you more than anything in the universe, Little Bit.”

“I love you more,” fuck, she really did. “And I’m always going to love you more.”

Snorting, he tapped the end of her nose with a fingertip.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”

~*~*~*~

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Padme asked as she pressed the cold pack against Anakin’s face. “You look upset.”

“I’m fine,” He wished he could be at the base. He wished he could be on the ship to see her off. He wished he could be anywhere but here where the guilt made him want to throw himself off of the balcony. Padme didn’t deserve this; she didn’t deserve the lies he held in his possession. But he’d _promised_. With every kiss of his knuckles against Iza’s body, he’d promised to hide their shame and never tell another soul. He knew she’d keep their secret, too. She was good at keeping secrets.

“Ani, you’re a million miles away,” Padme lowered the pack and let her shoulders sag. “Please talk to me,”

“I told you already,” waving a hand, the younger man kept his eyes focused on the lights of the military base just across the way. The ship would be leaving soon and he didn’t want to miss it. “I just had a rough day.”

“Is it her?”

He stiffened and turned to stare at his wife with a questioning look in his eye.

“What makes you ask me something like that?”

Padme’s smile was tight and just a little sad.

“Anakin,” a small palm came up to rest against his bruised cheek. “I know you’ve been worried for her since the accident. Are you still angry with me for making you remove her from the Temple?”

“No,” he shook his head and turned to kiss her wrist, taking hold of her hand and pressing kisses to each of her knuckles. “I’m not mad at all.”

Tilting her head, she studied him silently before smiling and running her fingertip over his chin.

“It’s okay, you know. It’s okay if you get mad at me.”

“I promise I’m not mad, Padme,”

Leaning in, Padme gently sealed a kiss over Anakin’s lips, jerking back when he suddenly turned away and got up from the sofa.

“Ani?”

He’d crossed the room and walked out onto the balcony, his attention focused on… _something_. When she was able to get up and look for herself, she saw one of the ships at the base rising into the air as it readied for departure. Glancing between the ship and Anakin’s upset face, she worried her brow and frowned. His blue eyes followed the ship as it flew past and took off into the night sky, his chest starting to heave as he clenched his jaw and turned away from her.

“Anakin?”

“I’m fine,” he didn’t sound fine; he sounded almost heartbroken.

“Anakin, what is going on?” Reaching to take his hand, Padme gave a light tug until he turned and threw his arms around her, nearly knocking her off her feet. “Ani?”

“I love you,” he breathed into her hair, swallowing thickly as he blinked back tears and buried his fingers in her hair. “I love you so much, Padme.”

Wrapping her arms around him tight, Padme wasn’t sure why she felt confused by the sudden display, but she held him to her all the same and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

“I love you too, Ani,”

This felt right. He had to tell himself that this was _right_. He’d fallen in love with Padme when he was young and he’d chosen _her_ out of every woman in the galaxy. There was no other like her and there would never be another like her. She was everything he could ever want, and more. He had no reason to stray from her. There was no reason to play games with someone else anymore. Their secret was still safe and he would never abuse her trust in him again. Closing his eyes, he pressed his face against the crown of her head and squeezed her to him. _He loved her_. He did.

So why the _hell_ did this hurt so much?

~*~*~*~

“ _Boss!_ ”

“What is it?” Hondo Ohnaka looked up from his drink and the credits he was counting, brushing aside Pilf MukMuk as he tried to snatch up some of the shiny cash.

“We’ve got visitors.”

“Fantastic,” rolling his eyes, the pirate muttered under his breath and tossed everything back onto the table before pushing his chair back. Stretching his arms above his head, he slowly made his way out of the base, squinting in the sunlight to find that a ship had landed just outside of the property. Tutting, he shook his head. “Nobody has any manners. Who does that belong to?

“ ** _Me_** ,”

Turning, Hondo brushed his helmet back to get a better look at the figure the voice had come from, eyes going wide before a smile split across his lips and he opened his arms wide.

“My Little Jedi!” Coming over like he thought he was going to get a hug out of Iza, he was only a little disappointed when she just stood there with her hands on her hips. “What can Hondo do for you, hm?”

“We came to take you up on your offer,” smiling, Iza raised an eyebrow as if to silently question whether or not the offer even still stood.

“We?” Hondo looked confused.

Iza nodded and stepped to the side, gesturing to Catcher and the other Stars standing behind her.

“ _We_.”

Giving his chin a tap as he studied the group of Clones and then brought his eyes back to Iza, he squinted and leaned in, lowering his voice.

“What are you playing at, Little Jedi?”

“You said that if I needed somewhere to go, you would take me.” She reminded him, pulling herself up to her full height. “Well, _we_ need somewhere to go. I will not abandon my husband and I will not abandon my men.”

“ _Husband_ ,” he grinned again and leaned around to look at Catcher with a raised eyebrow. “ _Well_ —they look like decent men. Are they loyal?”

“Absolutely.”

“And would they make good pirates?”

“Hondo,” reaching out, Iza dropped her arm around his shoulder and smiled wide. “I am offering you the service of an Ex-Jedi and _four_ Clones who’ve all defected from their posts. What the _fuck_ do you think?”

Looking her over a few times, he patted her between the shoulders and threw his free hand in the air.

“I think it’s time to celebrate! And talk percentage, yes?”

“I don’t work for spice, Hondo.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll work out payment.” Waving his hand, he gestured towards the cantina. “For now, we celebrate. To a new partnership and to your unholy little union! Come, come! Bring your men inside. Everyone gets the best in the house!”

Dropping her arm from around the man’s shoulders, Iza shook her head and watched as he headed into the base, looking up when Catcher slipped a possessive arm around her waist. Pursing her lips, she leaned into him and raised an eyebrow.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re not jealous over the Weequay.”

“ _Nope_ ,” tilting his head to look down at her, he smirked. “But if he thinks he’s got a free pass at you just because he’s the Boss, he’s got another thing coming.”

Tutting, Iza let out a laugh and stood on her toes to steal a kiss.

“Get your ass in there, _pirate_. We’ve got celebrating to do.”

“ _Yes sir._ ”

- **END** -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a quick thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos on this little piece~  
> I'm not planning a _direct_ sequel for this, but maybe a handful of one-shots or something that would go along with it?
> 
> I definitely wanna play around more with the Ani/Iza pairing as well, since I feel like that was a fun thing to discover, chemistry wise.
> 
> But yes--please feel free to let me know what you think. I'm always open to concrit and just general responses to my work <3
> 
> ~ Cali


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